Sara Bareilles - Poetry By Dead Men (Live from the Hollywood Bowl) lyrics
[Sara Bareilles - Poetry By Dead Men Live from the Hollywood Bowl lyrics]
Holy shit we're at the Hollywood Bowl
Goodnight, goodbye, gotta go
Just kidding, I just got here
I'm so glad you're here thank you for coming
By the time you hear this
I'll be in the rearview mirror
I'll even wear that green dress you like
So when I disappear you can turn around
One last look at the girl you lost
In the time you took to make
Up your mind between two roads
Go and take some more time
But me and mine must go
I tried to wait it out, no more
I can't find the man I was waiting for
I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry by dead men
By the time you hear this
Who knows where I might be?
Singin' 'bout another near-miss love
That ended incomplete
I was ready, but you weren't
So jump with your net from
This bridge you've burned
I wanted to tell you things
All the secrets I've been keepin'
I saw it in front of me
But then you just kept disappearin'
A good dream, almost now I tell your ghost
I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry by dead men
Line after line
The words just left to remind
The two of us, oh, what we could have been
Poetry by dead men fire from embers
How can I make you remember?
With a turn of a phrase
Would you turn to me if I say
"I still want to be your girl?"
I still wanna be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
(I wanted to be your girl)
This is what I look like standing up
Thank you! Alright, goodnight
That's gonna be my thing tonight I
Reckon, I can already feel it
I'm just gonna keep pretending
Like I'm leaving
Then it's gonna be like 11: 30
And you guys are gonna
Be like "is she gonna fucking
Leave? We would love that, parking is hard"
We're at the Hollywood Bowl
I'm the most nervous about this show
I'm just gonna get it out there
LA, you motherfuckers, you intimidate me
It's why I had to move
Just kidding, I love coming back
It feels like home
Goodnight, goodbye, gotta go
Just kidding, I just got here
I'm so glad you're here thank you for coming
By the time you hear this
I'll be in the rearview mirror
I'll even wear that green dress you like
So when I disappear you can turn around
One last look at the girl you lost
In the time you took to make
Up your mind between two roads
Go and take some more time
But me and mine must go
I tried to wait it out, no more
I can't find the man I was waiting for
I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry by dead men
By the time you hear this
Who knows where I might be?
Singin' 'bout another near-miss love
That ended incomplete
I was ready, but you weren't
So jump with your net from
This bridge you've burned
I wanted to tell you things
All the secrets I've been keepin'
I saw it in front of me
But then you just kept disappearin'
A good dream, almost now I tell your ghost
I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry by dead men
Line after line
The words just left to remind
The two of us, oh, what we could have been
Poetry by dead men fire from embers
How can I make you remember?
With a turn of a phrase
Would you turn to me if I say
"I still want to be your girl?"
I still wanna be your girl in a white T-shirt
Over coffee, stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl with
Your hands on my skin
Stirrin' in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
(I wanted to be your girl)
This is what I look like standing up
Thank you! Alright, goodnight
That's gonna be my thing tonight I
Reckon, I can already feel it
I'm just gonna keep pretending
Like I'm leaving
Then it's gonna be like 11: 30
And you guys are gonna
Be like "is she gonna fucking
Leave? We would love that, parking is hard"
We're at the Hollywood Bowl
I'm the most nervous about this show
I'm just gonna get it out there
LA, you motherfuckers, you intimidate me
It's why I had to move
Just kidding, I love coming back
It feels like home