First in line - Thomas Denver Jonsson



Look me up, with my head in my pocket

Look me up, with my head in my pocket

to see her coming home



Well forgotten, say can't you see her

well forgotten, say can't you see her

moving down the line



And it's hard to live and its hard to die

and it's hard to give your heart away

and oh, pretty girl it's hard to steal



In april I was sleeping with an anchor

Thursday I was fishing in the harbour

where ladies sleep



And the sun will always shine upon your face

as your parents watched the silver screen

Stolen days, when freedom got it's price

after the walk over frozen water



You held me down on the dirty backseat

pressure of the hand and the fingers

and the pleasure won



I will always, go by your side

but it's hard to get drunk tonight

and It's hard to smoke your mothers cigarettes

afraid of stealing

afraid of lying

afraid of losing my



mind.



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