The Smiths — Wonderful Woman

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Текст The Smiths — Wonderful Woman

Here her head, she lay

Until she’d rise and say

«I’m starved of mirth, Let’s go and trip a dwarf»

Oh, what to be done with her?

Oh, what to be done with her?

Ice water for blood

With neither heart or spine

And then just

To pass time; let us go and rob the blind

What to be done with her?

I ask myself

What to be said of her?

But when she calls me, I do not walk, I run

Oh, when she calls, I do not walk, I run