Electra (Letra)

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She loved a man who was sweet and lean
With a madison avenue scar
And wherever he went to get away
He took their luxury car
Where can you run
When the old house shakes
And it’s too hot to make any plans
The sidewalks crack, and the whole world quakes
‘cause you know that you chose the wrong man

Chorus:
Electra, the spirits tease
High up a bluff
And down on her knees
She’s looking down
At kingdom come
Come back electra
Don’t jump, don’t jump!

With a camera, he caught the mood
When a pen he caught what she thought
And everything worth having he mistook
For something you bought
Where can you run
When the old house shakes
And it’s too hot to make any plans
The sidewalks crack, and the whole world quakes
‘cause you know that you chose the wrong man

Repeat chorus:

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Electra (Letra)

Marianne Faithfull

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#Compartilhe

I know that woman in the mirror, not quite yours and not quite mine,
Who she is can’t say for sure, could be from another tide.
She’s the queen of sheba, my father’s mother,
Her face is low flying africa.
She says to me she is not me,
So tell me, tell me who is she ?
Tell me, tell me who is she ?

You’d think she owns the streets of dublin,
They say she’s king of torquay island,
She trades in piracy and sinning
She knows where you go at night.
And when you think you’ve finally reached her,
She laughs and says, "babe, it’s all right".

I know that woman in the mirror, that creature has my thoughts as eyes.
He saw her once and then forgot her, she remembers all his lies,
He spoke in secrets and in german kissed in tongues and slept in sighs.
She says to me she’s not my father,
So tell me, tell me who is she ?
Tell me, tell me who is she ?

You’d think she owns the streets of dublin,
They say she’s king of torquay island,
She trades in piracy and sinning,
She knows where you go at night.
And when you think you’ve finally reached her,
She laughs and says, "babe, it’s all right".

I know that woman in the mirror, not quite yours and not quite mine
Who she is can’t say for sure, could be from another tide.
She’s the queen of sheba, my father’s mother,
Her face is low flying africa.
She says to me she is not me,
So tell me, tell me who is she ?
Tell me, tell me who is she ?
Tell me, tell me who is she ?
Tell me, tell me who is she ?