I bite my lip
with hope of a kiss
That may never arrive
I believe in it
Like a white Christmas
Or three bowls of porridge
It’s fleeting these days
I haven’t been able to catch hold
I bite my lip
with hope of a kiss
That may never arrive
I believe in it
Like a white Christmas
Or three bowls of porridge
It’s fleeting these days
I haven’t been able to catch hold