Grooove - Losing Touch | Текст песни

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• Grooove
• Losing Touch

Heading down, down the road,
Like a rolling stone.
Like my father used to say,
Never roll too fast.

Gaining weight, flying so high,
Never looking down.
Like my father used to say,
Enough…

Jolly wind travels past,
Teasing me inside.
Hallo temper, hallo grace,
Won’t you stay aside?

Wake up to, to the sound of dawn,
Creeping all around.
Sacred smell of the jaded...

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