| Oh, my mistletoe called me up on the phone
|
| Tried her best to explain to the hearts that she had known
|
| That though they’d misbehaved, she’d known it all along
|
| No need to feel ashamed, we didn’t do nothing wrong
|
| And she said, «I wanted you to know
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| I believe in the end out of love truth grows
|
| And if I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone
|
| But don’t look at me like another lost soul»
|
| Covers her hands with rings, twenty little semi-precious things
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| Each one for a heart she’d stole from her years out on the road
|
| She talks with the knowledge that she paved her own rocky path
|
| And that the past is past, ain’t nothing you can do about that
|
| And she said, «I wanted you to know
|
| I believe in the end out of love truth grows
|
| And if I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone
|
| But don’t look at me like another lost soul
|
| You don’t look at me like another lost soul»
|
| And if all our time, if it turns out to be lies
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| I’ll go back home to the people that knew me
|
| Before I was old and grown
|
| Oh, my mistletoe called me up on the phone
|
| Tried her best to explain to the hearts that she had known
|
| That though they’d misbehaved, she’d known it all along
|
| No need to feel ashamed, we didn’t do nothing wrong
|
| And she said, «I wanted you to know
|
| I believe in the end out of love truth grows
|
| And if I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone
|
| But don’t look at me like another lost soul»
|
| 'Cause I believe in the end out of love truth grows
|
| And if I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone
|
| But don’t look at me like another lost soul
|
| And if I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone
|
| But don’t look at me like another lost soul |