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letra de volga - american fado

i struggle here
i’d rather be anywhere else but here
(but) my dark side always knows what to say

drifting over in a red dress
and now i’m drowning in your loch ness
all the gold woven in my toga pulls me down; you watch me struggle
all throughout the hot savannah, the lioness hunts in the moonlight
wounded deeply, i bleed, searching for fire in the night
i see you look at me like i’m meat
tell me i’m wrong, you know i’m right
tell me i’m wrong, you know i’m right
tell me i’m wrong, you know i’m right

i’d rather be anywhere else but here
(but) my dark side always knows what to say
i feel like fried chicken at a house painter’s lunch
you think you’re being nice; it’s all a bit much
you think you’re being nice; it’s all a bit much
you think you’re being nice; it’s all a bit much

i’d rather be anywhere else but here
(but) my dark side always knows what to say

- american fado

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