You don’t remember my name.
I don’t really care.
Can we play the game your way?
Can I really lose control?
Just once in my life,
I think it’d be nice,
Just to lose control, just once,
With all the pretty flowers in the dust.
Mary had a lamb.
His eyes black as coals.
If we play very quiet, my lamb,
Mary never has to know.
Just once in my life,
I think it’d be nice,
Just to lose control, just once.
If I cut you down to a thing I can use,
I fear there’ll be nothing good left of you.
