ToLetras - Letras para cada momento.

MY LIBRARY

Recent Saved Album Artists

Where I Go

de Lydia the Bard

A young girl or a pretty meal
The line is just so fine
Little red walked out alone
Joining the buffet of the night

See the wolves they wait and watch and howl hoping for a bite
Of fresh meat on a busy street the minute you're out of sight

Little red walked out alone
Joining the buffet of the night

But Little red, she knows these streets
So why should she be afraid?
She walks out with her blood red cloak
But Reds his favourite shade

You'll attract the wrong attention wearing colours such as those

Boys will be boys, wolves will be wolves
But what does mother know?

Feed us your girls
The wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves the ones without
Feed us your girls
From plate to mouth
Honey you're the entree when you dress like that
And mothers not around

Dawn arrives and dinner scraps
Are on the street from just last night
People whisper 'it's her fault
With a red so very bright '

A silly girl
A common whore
Someone cover up that sight
No one likes to see leftovers by the dawning light

And there's a buffet every night

But Little Red she knew those woods
Each tree and every stone
Doesn't matter either way
When there's a wolf inside your Home

You can hear the growling
So You throw the dog a bone
You'll catch more bees with honey dear
But what does mother know?

Feed us your girls
The wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves the ones without
Feed us your girls
From plate to mouth
Honey you're the entree when you dress like that
And mothers not around

Little Red was not a meal
A little girl is not a tease
A cloak is not an invitation for what's underneath

Our No does not mean yes
There no riddle, there's no test
Blood Red clothes alone at night shouldn't equal death

But the wolves are very hungry
Gnashing pointed teeth
Don't care what the wrappers like
It'll eat you if you breathe

So maybe it doesn't matter
How we choose to wrap our skin
'Cause you'd prefer to blame a girl
Then deal with your own sin

Feed us your girls
The wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves the ones without
Feed us your girls
From plate to mouth
Honey you're the entree when you dress like that
And mothers not around

Más canciones de Lydia the Bard