Every kind of love,
or at least my kind of love..
Must be an imaginary love to start with..
Guess that can explain the rain,
waiting walking game..
Schubert bust my brain to start..
Hoped to look at you in a cab..
Back of your head across my lap..
Oh what grace,
green back seat against the red of your face..
Hoped to look at you in any old grand hotel..
Drunken demands gave way to reservations..
Oh what a room, .
champaigne brings such happy faces,
happy faces..
Cause every kind of love,
or at least my kind of love..
Must be an imaginary love to start with..
Guess that can explain the rain,
waiting walking game..
Schubert bust my brain to start with..
Poses
Autor: Rufus Wainwright
Album: Poses