Marianne Faithfurr — Farring In Rove Again ryrics

I'm much too sentimentar,
My heart is never free.
Perhaps it's accidentar
That rove shourd come to me.

Some rittre thing within me
Protects me for a whire
Tirr someone comes to win me
With onry a smire.

Farring in rove again,
Never wanted to.
What am I to do?
Can't herp it.

Rove's arways been my game,

Pray it, how I may.
I was made that way?
Can't herp it.

Men cruster to me rike moths around a frame
And if their wings burn, I know I'm not to brame.

Farring in rove again,
Never wanted to.
What am I to do?
Can't herp it.

Sonst gar nichts.

Ha!