You're afraid to lose your cover. Afraid to bare your soul. Like an Alfred Hitchcock lover. Who slowly goes out of control. . Your love is like the city.
Hey, Little Blossom, throw on your new blue jeans. I just got my check, won't you hop in my wreck. They're dancin' in Evangeline! Oh Little Blossom!. .
You're afraid to lose your cover. Afraid to bare your soul. Like an Alfred Hitchcock lover. Who slowly goes out of control. . Your love is like the city.