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One, two, three, four
to Hudson Yards
It's on the weekdays
From April to May
a troubled an E Train
And sing about it in L.A.
And in your rearview
You start humming along
To the first verse
Of your favourite song
That you quote each day with the all wrong
So call me when the looks bleak
I love you but it's hard to believe
With every day we'll to see
The rest is metamodernity
With charm
It's humid in the midwest
From June to July
All a pinkish sky from the wildfires
mantle the horizon line
From the outset
It's been to tell
Why you'd this down
When it all bodes well
So call me the world looks bleak
I love you but it's hard to believe
With every day we'll start to see
The rest is metamodernity
to Hudson Yards
It's on the weekdays
From April to May
a troubled an E Train
And sing about it in L.A.
And in your rearview
You start humming along
To the first verse
Of your favourite song
That you quote each day with the all wrong
So call me when the looks bleak
I love you but it's hard to believe
With every day we'll to see
The rest is metamodernity
With charm
It's humid in the midwest
From June to July
All a pinkish sky from the wildfires
mantle the horizon line
From the outset
It's been to tell
Why you'd this down
When it all bodes well
So call me the world looks bleak
I love you but it's hard to believe
With every day we'll start to see
The rest is metamodernity
Click en la palabra para obtener su definición.
( Traducción Automática )
Con tecnología de Microsoft® Translator
