26 April 2012
By Florence welch
Happiness hit her like a train on a track, Coming towards her stuck still no turning back, she hid around corners and hid under beds, She killed it with kisses and from it she fled, With every bubble she sank with a drink, And washed it away down the kitchen sink, The dog days are over, The dog days are done, The horses are coming, So you better run.
Dog Days Are Over 2 • Opuss № I