Appaloosa - Tulu Rogers | Текст песни

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• Appaloosa
• Tulu Rogers

Everybody knows, Tulu Rogers sews, near her windowpane,
And she lives alone, in a shackled home, in the woods of Maine.
Wasting her days away,
Restraining all she has to say,
Crocheting all her thoughts in a lavendar sock,
While the record turns she listens to
Sebastian Bach, Sebastian Bach, she loves John Locke.

If I could change the sunlight,
Into swwet dreams of foresight,
Then I would smile 'cause everything would be O.K.
And the porcupines would either waste away,
Or remain forever, on her windowsill,
Frozen in the air without a care,
While the cold wind rushes through a broken quill,
I love her still, I always will.

Remains of snow, on hills of winterrgreen,
A sea of creme de menthe, a few drops of cream,
The sun comes up too soon, and the silver moon goes down,
Results turning leaves of trees, a nice dark chestnut brown,
As seasons change destroying winter's rule,
Sweet sounds start to rise from Tulu's spool,
I'm such a fool, I love her still.

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