Create lyrics explanation
Select some words and click "Explain" button. Then type your
knowledge, add image or YouTube video till "Good-o-meter" shows
"Cool" or "Awesome!". Publish your explanation with "Explain"
button. Get karma points!
The Parlor Mob – Slip Through My Hands lyrics
Mother, Mother
I can't take another
Moment here the way that it is
Heartache, heartache
It's a fear I can't shake
It heals and then it's broken again
The things I love seem to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
They say the darkest hour
Is just before a flower
Opens to the light of the sun
And you're my reason
My softly changing season
Tell me I'm the only one
The things I love seem to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
Still I somehow want to make this last
All my life I've been fooling myself
Trying to make the wrong things right
Like a birds against the cold hard wind
Trying to find the end of the night
The things I love seems to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
Still I somehow want to make this last
I can't take another
Moment here the way that it is
Heartache, heartache
It's a fear I can't shake
It heals and then it's broken again
The things I love seem to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
They say the darkest hour
Is just before a flower
Opens to the light of the sun
And you're my reason
My softly changing season
Tell me I'm the only one
The things I love seem to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
Still I somehow want to make this last
All my life I've been fooling myself
Trying to make the wrong things right
Like a birds against the cold hard wind
Trying to find the end of the night
The things I love seems to slip through my hands
Like a big red balloon or a grain of sand
But I see the future through the eyes of the past
Still I somehow want to make this last
Still I somehow want to make this last
Lyrics taken from
/the_parlor_mob-slip_through_my_hands-1698689.html
