Phantom Fantasia کے بول

Your hate mailed me love letters I kept every single note You said: I want to live in heaven, baby, can you redirect my post? I was making love with your ghost So low under the river In that little wooden boat You were throwing bodies over Boy, just to see if they would float I was making love with your ghost You would undressed me with your eyes And I undressed me of my clothes When your resurrection wood arise More than just the dead arose I was making love with your ghost I am the mistress at your funeral I am beautifully composed As they were speaking, there was glass of you I proposed myself a toast Well I was making love with your ghost I was making love with your ghost Well, I was making love with your ghost