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Tell me элтон джон

Trying to kill off this cold. Will the street kids remember. Can I still shoot a fast cue. Has this country kid still got his soul.

Tell me элтон джон me tell me элтон джон the whistle blows. Part of me asked the young man for the time. With a cool vacant stare of undue concern. And rather all this than those diamante lovers. In Hyde Park holding hands. Blowing heat through my fingers.

And I still feel the need. Of your apron strings once in a while. Take my ears and tell me when the whistle blows. Wake me up and tell me when the whistle blows. Long lost and lonely boy. I want to feel your wheels of steel. Underneath my itching heels.