Слова:
Counting Crows Across A Wire Live In New York City Disc 1

she'd like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus

here (cause I don't wanna be alone) I wanna be the knife that cuts into my hand and I wanna be scattered from here in this catapult What a big baby won

She is trapped inside a month of grey And they take a little every day She is a victim of her own responses Shackled to a heart that wants to settle

I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black- haired flamenco dancer She dances

My friend implores me " for one time only, make an exception." I am not not worried Wrap her up in a package of lies Send her off to a coconut island