Rebecca Lavelle - Sometimes

^GSometimes at the ^Cedge of sight ^GSomething moves which isn't t^Chere ^GYou turn to look but its g^Cone, it's gone ^GWas it ever really t^Chere Yet it touches y^Gou Softly touches y^Dou ^CAnd then begins ag^Dain

That scent of ro^Gses ^C The sound of s^Gea ^C A breath of w^Gind on your face

They take you b^Gack They take you th^Dere To that pl^Cace long ago And you want so m^Guch To hear those w^Dords To feel that to^Cuch

But you can't go b^Gack ^C No you can't go b^Gack ^C

L^Giving in the mom^Cent ^GIs dangerous and bl^Cind ^GBut if you look back, too many ti^Cmes ^GThe shapes distort, and un^Cwind

But they to^Guched you Softly touc^Dhed you ^CAnd then it begins again

That scent of ro^Gses ^C The sound of the s^Gea ^C A breath of wi^Gnd on your face

They take you ba^Gck They take you th^Dere To that pl^Cace long ago And you want so m^Guch To hear those wo^Drds To feel that to^Cuch

But you can't go b^Gack ^C No you can't go b^Gack ^C

^GSomtimes ...^C