I don't remember too much,
About the evil things we've done.
I can only tell you what I saw.
There was rain and soot.
There were lovers and blood,
And we learned how to feel in the cold.
We never talked too much,
But she held me in the dark.
And the time used to stop in her hands.
I could feel her go hesitant,
When it rained in Manhattan.
We took shelter in a spare room at the Grand.
And she calls me baby,
Like an old romantic.
But it's hard, when you're hurt
To let somebody in again.
And there's a slow song playing,
From a baby blue Mercedes.
Singing ""when I get to heaven,
There will be no more hard feelings.""
You'll wish for these days,
I've often heard it said.
I never found that to be true.
How easy it would've been,
If I'd never seen you again.
Like every other story in the book.
And she calls me baby,
Like an old romantic.
But it's hard, when you're hurt
To let somebody reck you again.
And there's a slow song playing,
From a baby blue Mercedes.
Singing ""when I get to heaven,
There will be no more hard feelings.""
And she calls me baby,
Like an old romantic.
Singing when I get to heaven
There will be no more hard feelings
There will be no more hard feelings