Holly Throsby. On Night. As The Night Dies. Zeneszám

Babe, it's so hard to be honest
As the crow lies
Babe, I've been known to be careless
I've made dogs cry
I've thrown logs on the fire
And burnt like a fight in the night
Is it too much for you?
Is it?
Well alright

Babe, here's the sound of the morning
As the night dies
And soon there'll be coffeepots calling
And the sunrise
And no, no replies
When you say 'please' I say 'be' you say 'mine'
Is it too much for you?
Is it?
Well alright