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Inch Chua
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Hurt
Cold, Cold is the sheep with no wool.
Back, Black is the shade of my skin.
I could stay on the third degree, but my heart's on wholesale.
Yes, my hearts on wholesale.
Someday, we'd be having laughs and talk over some cakes and tea.
You'd ask, how has love been for me and i'd reply cordially.
Then you'll, notice the blush on my face.
We'd smile, soaking it all until the bubble burst.
Dark, dark is the lane off the road.
Back, Black is the shade of my skin.
I could stay on the third degree, but my heart's on wholesale.
Yes, my hearts on wholesale.
Someday, we'd be having laughs and talk over some cakes and tea.
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You'd ask, how has love been for me and i'd reply cordially.
Then you'll, notice the blush on my face.
We'd smile, soaking it all until the bubble burst.
Cold, cold is the sheep with no wool.
Black, black is the shade of my skin.
Plain, plain is the simple we seek.
Fake, fake is the lie we all use.
Cold, cold is the sheep with no wool.
Black, black is the shade of my skin.
Plain, plain is the simple we use.
Fake, fake is the lie we all seek.
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