곡 정보

I don't have the glasses to hold this champagne
To celebrate the moment you'll wring my arms again
I don't the breath to blow the balloons
All that I'm hoping's that you're coming home soon

I don't have the bunting or supply of cigars
The 'Welcome Home' banners to hang from the bars
All that I have is these arms that I own
To put 'round your waist and pull you back home

Strike out the fanfare, she's coming home soon
And all that I own is this untidy room
Bed for my sleeping, table for tea
And love makes you happy, apparently

I can't hold the tears to write you this song
To welcome you back after loving you so long
And I ain't got the money to buy you the ride
To get you from there to here by my side

Strike out the fanfare, she's coming home soon
And all that I own is this untidy room
Bed for my sleeping, table for tea
And love makes you happy, apparently

As I wait at the station, a rose in my hand
I don't have a choir or a band
Glass made to shatter, eggs made to break
But sure as I'm standing, a heart's made to ache

Strike out the fanfare, she's coming home soon
And all that I own is this untidy room
Bed for my sleeping, table for tea
And love makes you happy, apparently

And love makes you happy, apparently
Love makes you happy, apparently
And love makes you happy, apparently