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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
He came from the East, selling something to the West In his heart he had love, in his bag his sister was the best In a back street alley or a plash hotel He would give you heaven, he could sell you hell Dear Michael the dealer, with a heart of gold, farewell. We never thought that tomorrow could ever turn into today We never knew which road to follow So we just run the gun, we made L.A. in St-Tropez. She came with the morning and a purple musline dress In her smile there were tears, in her heart there was nothing left Just a rich bitch hippy from society Her intentions were good but her soul weren't free Dear Jane, hope to see you in eternity. We never thought that tomorrow could ever turn into today We never knew which road to follow So we just run the gun, we made L.A. in St-Tropez. They met every evening, loving spoonful would take cure In the foyer of the Hilton or a basement squad somewhere Then she hit a vein, took her much too high And he took a bend, made him kiss the sky Dear Michael and Jane, just to say goodbye. We never thought that tomorrow could ever turn into today We never knew which road to follow So we just run the gun, we made L.A. in St-Tropez. |