I feel faint. Say it again.
I am struck by the weight of waiting.
And all my thoughts are racing,
as I hang on the hook of your words.
Your words.
Isabelle, you should
say to me what I've always hoped you would.
Damn, you look so good.
Oh I'm hanging on your string,
so Isabelle talk to me.
I feel faint. It must be the gin
that I drink for the sake of wasting away.
And I can't stand still. I'm pacing
as I cling to the sound of your voice.
Your voice.
Isabelle, you should
say to me what I've always hoped you would.
Damn, you look so good.
Oh I'm hanging on your string,
so Isabelle talk to me.
Isabelle, you should
say to me what I've always hoped you would.
Damn, you look so good.
Oh I'm hanging on your string,
so Isabelle talk to me.

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