at last... the end.. let sing lenka... trouble is a fren
Trouble he will find you no matter where you go, oh oh
No matter if you're fast, no matter if you're slow, oh oh
The eye of the storm or the cry in the mourn, oh oh
You're fine for a while but you start to lose control
Oh how I hate the way he makes me feel
And how I try to make him leave, I try
Oh oh, I try!
And how I try to make him leave, I try
Oh oh, I try!
+_-
