Weatherbelle Lyrics by The, The

Weatherbelle Lyrics

    Sitting at the back of a smoke filled room
    On a cold and sunny afternoon
    Drinking red wine
    And counting the laugh lines
    On the face of the girl who stands in the doorway
    And over her shoulder
    There's a world growing colder
    I'm feeling older and slowly less sober

    It's the first and the last time
    That we'll ever meet
    Just falling leaves
    From winter trees

    So light gives in to dark
    The nylon sheets softly spark
    Nostalgia strikes hard at the heart
    That cannot escape from its past

    And it's the first and the last time
    That we'll ever meet
    Just falling leaves
    Dropping from winter trees
    Strangers touching the parts
    That love cannot reach





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