Blondie : I'm Always Touched by Your Presence Dear
Letras
1. I'M ALWAYS TOUCHED BY YOUR PRESENCE DEAR
Was it destiny
I don't know yet
Was it just by chance? Could this be Kismet?
Something in my consciousness told me you'd appear
Now I'm always touched by your presence dear
When we play at cards you use an extra sense (it's really Not cheating).
You can read my hand, I've got no defence
When you sent your messages whispered loud and clear
I am always touched by your presence dear
Floating past the evidence of possibilities
We could navigate together, psychic frequencies
Coming into contact with outer entities
We could entertain each one with our theosophies.
Stay awake at night and count your R.E.M.'s when you're Talking with your super friends
Levitating lovers in the secret stratosphere
I am still in touch with your presence dear
I am still in touch with your presence dear
I am still in touch with your presence dear, dear, dear, Dear, dear.
2. POETS PROBLEM
Poet's problem, patron's sin
Puts me in the place I'm in
Passion's letter, poison pen
On these two things I can depend
You will write your number, that's not all.
I will not be there when you call
I think I'll do a line and then again.
Dirty dealer's school of thought
An armchair for the strength you've lost
The TV set's been on all night
You were wrong and I was right
You will write your number on the wall.
I will not be there when you call
I think I'll do a line and then again.
3. DETROIT 442
You know he can't be tested, he can't be read or found
Urban grey takes breath away, he wants to push his pedal To the ground
And the night's what's right, puts him at the wheel
Well, I eat danger, any stranger is all right
Feel hot to go like Jimmy O, dodging flying objects at the show
And the lights make me fight
In Detroit 442, maybe, baby, I could ride with you
This town's a concrete factory and Dad and Mum look just Like me
I'm on the plant assembly line. Too late now. Too far Behind
You said you wanna hang around, no-one really cares where you go
Take your time. Things never change
In Detroit 442, maybe, baby, I could ride with you
In Detroit 442, maybe, baby, I could ride with you
In Detroit 442, maybe, baby, I could ride with you
In Detroit 442, maybe, baby, I could ride with you
One more to market, one more piggie, and they all, they All look just like me, yeah
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