I think I met you on the seventeenth floor
When I stood on Margot's window sill
Or maybe it was in the Crimean war
When I lost my middle finger
I really don't love you
It just looks that way
Radio lover meets serial killer
He says it's inevitable
She says call me Grace
I think I met you on the mental ward
You watched me juggle my life
Or maybe it was in some naphthalene story
Roman candles and wine
I think I met you on death row
Somewhere in Louisiana
Or maybe it was at Heathrow
You were flying to Cancun
I think I met you at Graceland National
I was the one torching the bike
Or maybe it was at the abattoir
I was the one with the knife
Wild Strawberries - Grace Lyrics
Wild Strawberries - Grace Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
I think I met you on the seventeenth floor
When I stood on Margot's window sill
Or maybe it was in the Crimean war
When I lost my middle finger
I really don't love you
It just looks that way
Radio lover meets serial killer
He says it's inevitable
She says call me Grace
I think I met you on the mental ward
You watched me juggle my life
Or maybe it was in some naphthalene story
Roman candles and wine
I think I met you on death row
Somewhere in Louisiana
Or maybe it was at Heathrow
You were flying to Cancun
I think I met you at Graceland National
I was the one torching the bike
Or maybe it was at the abattoir
I was the one with the knife
When I stood on Margot's window sill
Or maybe it was in the Crimean war
When I lost my middle finger
I really don't love you
It just looks that way
Radio lover meets serial killer
He says it's inevitable
She says call me Grace
I think I met you on the mental ward
You watched me juggle my life
Or maybe it was in some naphthalene story
Roman candles and wine
I think I met you on death row
Somewhere in Louisiana
Or maybe it was at Heathrow
You were flying to Cancun
I think I met you at Graceland National
I was the one torching the bike
Or maybe it was at the abattoir
I was the one with the knife