Оригинален текст
You rip my guts with every sharp word,
When you use that monster
Hiding underneath your tongue,
My words dont, they dont work on you,
No, they dont work like they used to.
Cause its been seven weeks, seven weeks,
Oh, oh, oh, seven weeks, since I called you,
When I try now; I just cant get through.
So far, the drinks have been so strong,
No writing on the post cards,
No memories to hang on.
Sleeping in my six o clock shadow,
People judging people so shallow,
I call you up to see what youre doing,
To see if you wont...
Send me your love, right through the ceiling,
I need your love, darlin this evening!
Oh, moma, moma, moma, what can I do?
Theres a jukebox baby,
And you can play our favorite song all night,
Until your moneys gone,
Cause if Im right about you darlin,
Then youre probably laying in bed,
And your temperature is boiling,
Cause your making things up in your head.
Its been seven weeks, seven weeks,
Oh, oh, oh seven weeks, since I called you,
When I try now; just cant get through,
So far, the days have been so long,
But, now I got my fade on,
Screaming at you at the top of my lungs!
Fog is lifting from the old man,
I had so much fun in the trash can,
I wave my flag, but you still send your troops in,
To the war in your soul.
Send me your love, right through the ceiling
I need your love, darlin this evening!
Oh, moma, moma, moma, what can I do?
Backstage pass through these time zones,
Want you everyday, but Im not home,
Cant really touch you through the cell phone,
Theres so many things that you just dont know..
Its been seven weeks, seven weeks,
Oh, oh, oh, seven weeks, since I called you,
When I try now; just cant get through.
So far, the drinks have been so strong,
Now theres writing on the post cards,
Baby, seven weeks is just too long!