.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.




You're the prince to my ballerina

You'll feed all the people's parking meters

You encourage the eating of ice cream

And you would somersault in sand with me


You talk to loners
You ask 'how's your week?'
You give love to all
And give love to me
You're obsessed with hiding
The sticks and stones
And feel the unknown
You feel like home

You feel like home. . .



You're the warmth in my summer's breeze

You're the ivory to my ebony key

You would share your last jelly bean

And you would somersault in sand with me.



You put my feet back on the ground

Oh, did you know you brought me round

Yeah, you were sweet and you were sound

Can you save me ?


.
.
.
.
........................................ "Somersault" - Zero 7