The Cooks - TFW No Sandstorm

We talk in slow motion, and we talk too loud
Skipping rocks by the beach and you know you make me proud
Countless winter nights spent loitering on the roof
And still nobody even knows the whole truth

In the taxi home
I'll sing you a Georgia Maq song

Give me a second to miss you and a second to kiss you now
Just let me count to three and you will see, that I'm out of my depths
A second to miss you and a second to kiss you now
Just let me count to three and you will see, that you're out of my reach

Swapping stories and love on Christmas morning
Watching pretty girls from Sheffield drink Lambrini under the awnings
And the fireworks that night nearly made me cry
As imperfect flaming plastic crashes down from the sky

When there's nothing left to burn
You set yourself on fire

Give me a second to miss you and a second to kiss you now
Just let me count to three and you will see, that I'm out of my depths
Give me a second to miss you and a second to kiss you now
Just let me count to three and you will see, that you're out of my reach

And the DJ that night didn't play Darude's Sandstorm
Well I guess that's a song for another day
And I could hardly hold her body close to mine, as Mr Brightside pierced through my Head and pounded through My heart
I hope she had the time of her life, I hope Lisa had the time of her life
Just like the girl at the buttercup bakery, she said a single kiss would ruin it, but she was Wrong

Written by:
Ricki Wilcox

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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