Black Hand
Anita Lipnicka & John Porter
Popularity ยท Low
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Lyrics
His black hand on my white belly
And I can't even pronounce his name
The saxophone keeps on playing
Origami birds fly above my head
I'm fifteen and I miss home
But only happy letters get across the sea
If not your eyes that saw it all
I could easily pretend it was just a dream
Dear Anna
It's good you don't keep in touch
How would we talk about it now?