If You Weren't Leaving Me Songtext
von Mark Owen

I′m gonna stand on your parade
I need to jump into your grave
Gonna stalk you, I'm afraid
Wanna be your fucking pain
By the way, you know it′s all your fault

Yeah, I will get into your head
And every day out of your bed
I'll buy you roses, paint 'em red
And then I′ll take you shopping
So come and get it
What the hell are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?


We could run away
We could climb a tree
We could crash a car
Be celebrity
We could rob a bank
We could play guitar
We could shoot a gun
We could go too far
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now

All the things that we
All the things that we could be
If you weren′t leaving me

I'll carve your name into my skin
And every place that you have been
Watch you dream while you′re asleep
I haven't slept now for a week
So come and get it
What the hell are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?


We could run away
We could climb a tree
We could crash a car
Be celebrity
We could rob a bank
We could play guitar
We could shoot a gun
We could go too far
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now
All the things that we
All the things that we could be
If you weren′t leaving me

Yeah, I'll jump from a plane
Then we′ll do it again
And what life is about
So, we'll take a year out
And we'll learn politics
And some new party tricks
And we′ll call our friend
John
John

We′ll drink in a bar
We'll walk in the park
We′ll meet at the end
And again at the start
And we'll look for the light
When the daylight has gone
Then we′ll run out of breath
Take the whole world on
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
We could run away
We could climb a tree
We could crash a car
Be celebrity
We could rob a bank
We could play guitar
We could shoot a gun
We could go too far
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now
Bring it on, now
Get it on, now
All the things that we
All the things
That we could be

The things I'd do for you
One: Cry out
Two: Free a bird
Three: Get a better job
A four letter word
Five is a hi-fi
Six on the beach
Twenty four-seven baby
Eight days a week
Come on, now
Get it on, now
Come on, now
All the things
That we could be
If you weren′t leaving me