.In the heat of Indian Summer>
Sipping coffee at a table outside
Your eyes were on the poem I wrote you
I thought I saw a tear begin to slide
At each teardrop was an exit
But the doors they all were closed
And the sweetness of the moment
Was ironic I suppose
We nev.
Have you been looking for lyrics of your favorite song, too long? Lyrics has got them all listed out for you by your favorite songwriters, artists neatly arranged by albums you love. Simply,Choose an album, artist or lyricist and start discovering lyrics of your favorite songs.
Allow To View All Exclusive Content & Notifications 🔔