She Picks Flowers

Darling

You're here for the death of rock 'n' roll

And all of its soul

You tell me you should’ve been born in ‘54

That you arrived at the worst time

That the world is a mess now

But you remind me of a home

With a warm safe space

With blacked out windows

And a fire place

Can I call you Penny Lane on a Sunday

Call you just to hear you say my name

Will you be my heart of gold?

She picks flowers on her own

And I feel like

Holding you darling

Feeling your body next to mine

Feeling your breath escape your sigh

Don't you tell me what you're thinking

I know that you’re different

'Cause you remind me of a home

With a warm safe space

With blacked out windows

And a fire place

Can I call you Penny Lane on a Sunday

Call you just to hear you say my name

Will you be my heart of gold?

Because you remind me of a home

With a warm safe space

With blacked out windows

And a fire place

Can I call you Penny Lane on a Sunday

Call you just to hear you say my name

Will you be my heart of gold?

She picks flowers on her own