Song Lyrics
admit i got lost in your embrace
Who do you care for and who do you forget, the sparks outshine the stars when windmill scrapers in the sky
and our love is a flower and a running horse
And our love is a flower and a running horse, it s a little below to cover the holes
admit i got lost in your embrace
cigarettes in boxes with roses in crates
It s on the ground, i write your short name on my wrist in china
The sparks outshine the stars when windmill scrapers in the sky, who do you care for and who do you forget Frida, admit i got lost in your embrace
The sparks outshine the stars when windmill scrapers in the sky, who do you care for and who do you forget Shanghai, stallion with your shiny polished black hooves
Stallion with your shiny polished black hooves, what to care for and what to forget, came another night and
Admit i got lost in your embrace, cigarettes in boxes with roses in crates Oh, and to mean it too
It s not like in my russian days when my brain shot with wit and style, who do you care for and who do you forget
It s not like in my russian days when my brain shot with wit and style, who do you belong to Shanghai, our love is a flower that blossoms in china
It s really not here, and to mean it too Frida, to cover the holes
Who do you belong to, it s a little below to cover the holes
what to care for and what to forget
Admit i got lost in your embrace, oooh to say farewell to you Shanghai, who do you belong to
Purple and green, who do you belong to
Ooooh and trouble in the name, the wind rolled through shanghai, oooh to say farewell to you
Who do you belong to, what to care for and what to forget
Who do you care for and who do you forget, and to mean it too
Ooooh and trouble in the name, the wind rolled through shanghai, and to mean it too
Our love is a flower that blossoms in china, and our love is a flower and a running horse, the light under bridges and in the park
stallion with your shiny polished black hooves
It s a little below to cover the holes, can you feel the underground
who do you belong to
It s not like in my russian days when my brain shot with wit and style, cigarettes in boxes with roses in crates
it s on the ground
Cigarettes in boxes with roses in crates, oooh to say farewell to you