Текст и слова песни The Libertines US – Voices From The Past
I didn't see you coming
I could have hidden if I'd known
It was not a pleasure bumping into you
I don't enjoy these moments
Like you seem to
Part of my collection
Voices from the past
The phone rings a thousand times
And I always pick it up
And I know it's you, or you, or you, or you
But I just wanted to be sure
I wait in my apartment for old friends to move away
Sitting on my door step
Voices from the past
I try to walk away with them nipping at my heals
I shade my eyes and press my thumbs against my ears
A blue car is in the lot outside the store
It looks like I'll be shopping
Somewhere else today
I hear a horn honk as I'm walking down the street
Behind electric windows
Voices from the past
Familiar writing, a scented letter in the box
I know it's you, I know it's you
But I'll read it anyway
And I'll file it with the others
In a plastic bag behind the house
Part of my collection
Voices from the past
I try to walk away with them nipping at my heals
I shade my eyes and press my thumbs against my ears
Voices from the past
Voices from the past
Voices
I could have hidden if I'd known
It was not a pleasure bumping into you
I don't enjoy these moments
Like you seem to
Part of my collection
Voices from the past
The phone rings a thousand times
And I always pick it up
And I know it's you, or you, or you, or you
But I just wanted to be sure
I wait in my apartment for old friends to move away
Sitting on my door step
Voices from the past
I try to walk away with them nipping at my heals
I shade my eyes and press my thumbs against my ears
A blue car is in the lot outside the store
It looks like I'll be shopping
Somewhere else today
I hear a horn honk as I'm walking down the street
Behind electric windows
Voices from the past
Familiar writing, a scented letter in the box
I know it's you, I know it's you
But I'll read it anyway
And I'll file it with the others
In a plastic bag behind the house
Part of my collection
Voices from the past
I try to walk away with them nipping at my heals
I shade my eyes and press my thumbs against my ears
Voices from the past
Voices from the past
Voices
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