Correction Paroles Little Colonel par Z Berg

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Dear little devil, how’s tricks these days
I didn’t write, didn’t know what to say
Do you still sleep with the sun in your face
Sheets wet from fever, dreams force you awake

Dear little colonel, one foot in the grave
Fighting the war with an unsteady aim
Is that the goal, to create your crusade
With nothing for no one, so no one is saved
Or safe

You never really say you will
But never say you won’t
The world must be a funny place
When you can’t let go
You can’t ask for forgiveness if you think you must atone
For what you know

Dear little valentine, how is your nose
Keeping it clean, I sure doubt, but I hope
How is your head, mister, how are your toes
Do you still miss me when nights get too cold

You never really say you do
But never say you don’t
The world must be an awful place
When you can’t let go
You can’t see what you’re made of if you think you’re made of stone
And all alone

And every time you say you will
You prove to me you won’t
Your world is such a lovely place
Still, I can’t let go
I can’t see what you’re made of if you think you must atone
For what you know
And what you don’t

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