If I should grow weak, unable to speak,
it's really not my fault.
And if I hesitate, and pardon the feeling,
but I can barely talk,
my mind races ahead,
and passing all regrets until the slate is clean.
I'm grinning like a fool,
and this I blame on you.
That's what you do to me.
In the dead of the night,
with the moon on the rise,
I try to contemplate.
If the stars in the sky hold the answer to why,
I can't concentrate.
Like the wind on the sea, feeling wild and free,
like in a waking dream.
And in my rainbows,
and my heart fell to the brim,
that's what you do to me.
Then the fear and pain, strong into your flame,
never so dangerously.
The closer that I get, the more I want you yet.
You're still a mystery.
For every love affair that ends up in despair,
unceremoniously.
This one that comes along,
plays just like a song.
That's what you do to me.
In the dead of the night,
with the moon on the rise,
I try to contemplate.
If the stars in the sky hold the answer to why,
I can't concentrate.
Like the wind on the sea, feeling wild and free,
like in a waking dream.
And in my rainbows,
and my heart fell to the brim,
that's what you do to me.
In
the dead of the night,
with the moon on the rise,
I try to contemplate.
If the stars in the sky hold the answer to why,
I can't concentrate.
Like the wind on the sea, feeling wild and free,
like in a waking dream.
And in my rainbows,
and my heart fell to the brim,
that's what you do to me.
That's what you do to me.
That's what you do to me.
That's what you do to me.