Stories Lyrics by Withers, Bill
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There grows a weed looks like a flower
Looks like baby’s breath on a mirror
The sun peaked at noon
I watched it hoping it would rise
Mama sagte: Geh’ weiter dein Weg
Jeder Schlag wächst aus dir raus
Baby, ja, we falling in luv
Doch wissen nach ‘ner Weile nicht mal, was wir verlier’n