Вершы: Emiliana Torrini. Fisherman's Woman. Thinking Out Loud.

Like the leaves at my feet
He is a victim of gravity
The unbearable colour of things
Gets him down

And as his raincoat covers me
We know it was never raining

Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud

Like strings in a fan
The shoelaces aren't done
The solitude reflection of his fate
Gets him down

And as the shadow covers me
I thought he was only sleeping

Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud

His clothes on the floor
Underwear silverlined
The smell of lavender and tar
Brings me down

If the telephone should ring
God knows it could never be him

Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud
Sorry it was me
Was I thinking out loud