3WW

[Chorus] Oh, these three wrong words Oh, that we whisper Like the rubbing hands Of tourists in Verona I just want to love you in my own language [Verse 1] There was a wayward lad Stepped out one morning The ground to be his bed The sky his awning [Verse 2] Neon, neon, neon A blue neon light in a midnight country field Can't surround so you lean on, lean on So much your hugs become hold ons [Chorus] Oh, these three wrong words Oh, that we whisper Like the rubbing hands Of tourists in Verona I just want to love you in my own language