מאוהב בידידה...
הנה המלצה לשיר מיוחד כזה... הוא לא עם הפקה של מיליון דולר הוא לא עם הראפר הכי כריזמתי בעולם... אבל הוא אמיתי ומי מאיתנו לא היה במצב הזה? אז השם הוא Alas - Bad Sitcom והנה גם הליריקס שלו: it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom on the walls hang mouths and they sing this song in the early jersey morning time takes some ticks off her eyes tell stories too sharp for her lips toss night into the laundry basket, tomorrow she´s gone tonight i wanna tell her i´m in love but between the flicker of the cathode-ray tube i realize i can´t treat her like he does and it´s not that i love her any less but maybe just not as much as my writing suggests these words are for her may she find the rest she so deserves wether on his or my chest and i guess i´m just selfish and can´t be content with a great girl finding happiness with a friend but i beat myself to death with these irony sticks we have so much in common so why is she with him? and i guess this only makes sense this tuesday night with the campus dead silent, back in my room to write and these are the words that scurried across the paper now let´s see if i could bring myself to hate her but then she gets so excited when she´s talking about something she is passionate about, and her eyes surround the whole room, captivated by her gaze i look on in amazement, can he appreciate this? and i´m sure he loves her just as much but does he feel how pure she is to touch? i can´t tell her about these feelings appearing so i´m stuck watching her hair hug her earring and i´m sure he loves her just as much but does he feel how pure she is to touch? i can´t tell her about these feelings appearing so i write this song and hope she never hears it it´s just us in a room full of guilt to the blinds the moonlight races from my heart to my mind she has her things packed and awkwardly says ´bye´ without ever leaving or even being there in the first place imagination is a lot like a child birthed by the mind it assumes a shape then gradually grows and severs all ties with reason and spawns a path to escape it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom i feel her like a fever, blistered by her freedom i tiptoe back from the moon´s hypnosis and they´re kissing and i´m watching tv and it´s never just us and it´s never just the room it´s never just me though she´d blame it on the moon it´s never enough and it´s always too soon on lonely walls hang lips and they whisper this tune it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom on the walls hang mouths and they sing this song in the early jersey morning time forgets some ticks her eyes tell stories too sharp for her lips פלג.
הנה המלצה לשיר מיוחד כזה... הוא לא עם הפקה של מיליון דולר הוא לא עם הראפר הכי כריזמתי בעולם... אבל הוא אמיתי ומי מאיתנו לא היה במצב הזה? אז השם הוא Alas - Bad Sitcom והנה גם הליריקס שלו: it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom on the walls hang mouths and they sing this song in the early jersey morning time takes some ticks off her eyes tell stories too sharp for her lips toss night into the laundry basket, tomorrow she´s gone tonight i wanna tell her i´m in love but between the flicker of the cathode-ray tube i realize i can´t treat her like he does and it´s not that i love her any less but maybe just not as much as my writing suggests these words are for her may she find the rest she so deserves wether on his or my chest and i guess i´m just selfish and can´t be content with a great girl finding happiness with a friend but i beat myself to death with these irony sticks we have so much in common so why is she with him? and i guess this only makes sense this tuesday night with the campus dead silent, back in my room to write and these are the words that scurried across the paper now let´s see if i could bring myself to hate her but then she gets so excited when she´s talking about something she is passionate about, and her eyes surround the whole room, captivated by her gaze i look on in amazement, can he appreciate this? and i´m sure he loves her just as much but does he feel how pure she is to touch? i can´t tell her about these feelings appearing so i´m stuck watching her hair hug her earring and i´m sure he loves her just as much but does he feel how pure she is to touch? i can´t tell her about these feelings appearing so i write this song and hope she never hears it it´s just us in a room full of guilt to the blinds the moonlight races from my heart to my mind she has her things packed and awkwardly says ´bye´ without ever leaving or even being there in the first place imagination is a lot like a child birthed by the mind it assumes a shape then gradually grows and severs all ties with reason and spawns a path to escape it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom i feel her like a fever, blistered by her freedom i tiptoe back from the moon´s hypnosis and they´re kissing and i´m watching tv and it´s never just us and it´s never just the room it´s never just me though she´d blame it on the moon it´s never enough and it´s always too soon on lonely walls hang lips and they whisper this tune it´s just us on the couch and a bad sitcom on the walls hang mouths and they sing this song in the early jersey morning time forgets some ticks her eyes tell stories too sharp for her lips פלג.