| Well, the witches stare with their limbs akimbo
|
| Silhouettes a statues up in the window
|
| Call me the coming with the crooked crescendo
|
| But I don’t
|
| Devotees dance among the
|
| Dancing moms on the promenade
|
| Into a tabernago on the long
|
| But I don’t follow
|
| Because she’s mine, she’s mine
|
| She’s mine, all mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, mine
|
| Mine
|
| Midnight mood across the peoples parking
|
| I fled the fire like a spin and spark upon
|
| Zoo approaching the dark
|
| She was waiting right there for me She knows that my hands are empty
|
| As I go pass, her mother’s a envy
|
| And I don’t have to fumble in the dark
|
| For my keys
|
| I believe she’s mine, she’s mine
|
| She’s mine, all mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, mine
|
| Mine
|
| The pupils gathered in the yard
|
| Around the made of cars
|
| And waited for that leaders words
|
| But his words didn’t make much sense
|
| His mouth is spat out of fist today
|
| 'Cause in his tongue is swirled in a southern swagger
|
| And I love they all, the people gather
|
| But they’re worn in a trance
|
| And she’s mine, she’s mine
|
| She’s mine, all mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, mine
|
| Mine
|
| I was strong before the quarter canes
|
| Toss my soul to the furnace flames
|
| Where all my heroes have been slain
|
| Exiled or put in prison
|
| Because they rose above the mess
|
| And because their power opposed the fading
|
| Because they spoke of something else
|
| When everybody else didn’t
|
| The music fills the space between
|
| The deities in the prophecies
|
| Nobodys pressing the steed
|
| Standing in the sand
|
| She looks at me so fearlessly
|
| And I take it all too seriously
|
| But it all becomes a flee to me And makes me understand
|
| That she’s mine, she’s mine
|
| She’s mine, all mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, mine
|
| Mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, all mine
|
| All mine, all mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine, yes, mine
|
| Oh, mine
|
| Yes, she’s mine, yeah, mine
|
| Yeah, mine
|
| Yeah, she’s mine |