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Remember when we were angels Before we stole cars And when sex and drugs Lived up in another world... not a care in the world Hide and seek, kissing and running Till you were out of breath In the late night day sun Until you Mamma called you home... and you didn't wanna go Fly High Be my getaway Gotta getaway Fly High Be my getaway Gotta getaway Coppers, robbers, cowboys and Indians Hanging round the corner Of the street you lived How come it felt so far away... just a stone throw away Your best friend wasn't someone you worked with And money from your old man Would burn a hole in yer pocket all day... Not a single debt to pay Fly High Be my getaway Gotta getaway... Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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