Тексты песен John Wesley Harding

You win the argument At the end of every night I never know the perfect time To hit the bedside light Then we lie awake Watch headlights climb the blinds I want you to know what's going on In my mind

Well your voice grips me tight like fingers Takes hold of whatever's inside Though we try to harmonize with different singers When we're out of tune at least we'll know we've tried Baby, it's a hopele