Žodžiai dainai: Chris Rea. Que Sera.
There's a feathered cloud in an open sky
And the pale-tailed moon goes sailing by
This old engine housing's streaked with rain
And we're pushing down on them chains again
Friend we're like the wind that blows
Like the sea we come and go
And I'm not trying to tell you
How I think that it should be
I know deep down inside
We are yearning to be free
And you're only gonna think of No 1
So what am I to say
No matter what you do
We're always hurting anyway
Forever our hearts will be
Always running for what we see
By the strings of this old guitar
I swear, Que sera
And you're rolling down old runway ten
And the present becomes the past and then
Rotating through the driving rain
And you're way above those clouds again
And I'm not trying to tell you
How I think that it should be
I know deep down inside
We are yearning to be free
And you're only gonna think of No 1
So what am I to say
No matter what you do
We're always hurting anyway
Forever our hearts will be
Always running for what we see
By the strings of this old guitar
I swear, Que sera
And the pale-tailed moon goes sailing by
This old engine housing's streaked with rain
And we're pushing down on them chains again
Friend we're like the wind that blows
Like the sea we come and go
And I'm not trying to tell you
How I think that it should be
I know deep down inside
We are yearning to be free
And you're only gonna think of No 1
So what am I to say
No matter what you do
We're always hurting anyway
Forever our hearts will be
Always running for what we see
By the strings of this old guitar
I swear, Que sera
And you're rolling down old runway ten
And the present becomes the past and then
Rotating through the driving rain
And you're way above those clouds again
And I'm not trying to tell you
How I think that it should be
I know deep down inside
We are yearning to be free
And you're only gonna think of No 1
So what am I to say
No matter what you do
We're always hurting anyway
Forever our hearts will be
Always running for what we see
By the strings of this old guitar
I swear, Que sera
Rea Chris
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