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Fete Norstedt

de Eddie Nilsson

Babe, I know how you wanna give me all that I want
The trouble is, I don’t even want the things that I want
But I wanna be the hand that turns on your clock
I wanna be the paper that wins over rock
I wanna be the profit of your lucrative stock
I wanna be every single whole in your sock

Couldn’t even hurt me when you’re being rough
When I think of pain, it ain’t you I’m thinking of
You shouldn’t trust a single word that I’m saying
That shit just slips out every time that we’re playing

I’m the opportunity that never knocks
I wanna be the anchor that keeps you at the dock
I wanna be the key that fucked up your lock
I wanna be the wolf that abandoned the flock

All I wanna be, all I wanna be, all I wanna be
Is the hand that turns on your clock
I wanna be the danger that lurks on your block
I wanna be the priest when you called for the cops

But then the feelings just gone when we stop

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