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Del Amitri Del Amitri Hammering Heart I suppose love lives in a dustbin behind the garden wall You have to grovel on the ground and be pretty disgusting to find it at all And I suppose that it grows on you Standing there with no clothes on, and I suppose because there's beautiful girls in this town I'll stay here till I've chosen one. I suppose life's like a hunt, really: the hounds have fun until the fox gets bagged And not one girl in this town will ever fall in love with me: They'll get dragged. Her heart speaks to me; says the room the room the room beneath her dress, and I suppose that it beats for me Like a hammering moon pulling tides through her chest Suppose she says that she owes me all that she owns and all that she is It seems to me I suppose that her heart's not enough and her love is a swizz. So suppose love lives in a mansion how the hell do I get over the wall? And if my rope's not stretched the right tension I won't cross this grand canyon at all. And I suppose that it grows like a tumor, spreads like a rumor like the grass grows and inch every day And I suppose that before I even know it, the tide will start flowing and the drum beneath my jacket will say: You know you need her everyday She is the moon and she showed me her face She is the house and she opened the gates |
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