Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
Tanya Donelly
You accuse me of fancy talk
When i'm just trying to find my words
You've got a funny way of saying my name
Like i just ripped it off
These whiskey tango ghosts
Won't leave us alone
But you are too polite to complain
Of the art of speaking plain
I haven't gathered a thing
While I know we're dug in deep here
Why can't we live high with the wind
You're just a freckle away from changing everything
I'll make this easy
By calling on my gypsy pedigree
These whiskey tango ghosts
Won't leave us alone
Of the art of speaking plain
I haven't gathered a thing
While i know we're dug in deep here
Why can't we live high with the wind
Can't we live
Of the art of making waves
I had my lesson in spades
And these ghosts they make it plain
They're never going away
And my ghost she makes it plain
I haven't gathered a thing
Though I know we're dug in deep here
Why can't we live high with the wind
Can't we live