Paroles
When I got back from fixing my hair
You were directing the traffic
Letting your story slip on the snow
As if the transmission was automatic
It’s arguable that I shouldn’t have been there
It was fortunate timing
I had a hole in the pocket of my favorite coat
And my love dropped into the lining
Not on me
I haven’t got my strange
(Have you got your strange?) Not on me
You can’t sleep until you’ve sat on the steps
To weep ’til you feel like you’ve wept, yeah
No, not on me
I haven’t got my strange
(Have you got your strange?) Not on me
I haven’t got my strange
I’ve better fetch my strange
I haven’t got my strange
I haven’t got my strange