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In days of peace - sweet smelling summer nights of wine and song; dusty pavements burning feet. Why am I crying, I want to know. How can I smile and make it right? For sixty days and eighty nights and not give in and lose the fight. I`m going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go - and with you there to help me then it probably will. I won`t go down acting the same old play. Give sixty days for just one night. Don`t think I`d make it: but then I might. I`m going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go - and with you there to help me then it probably will. |