Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over,
Over,
Over.
No good times, no bad times,
There's no times at all,
Just The New York Times,
Sitting on the windowsill
Near the flowers.
We might as well be apart.
It hardly matters,
We sleep separately.
And drop a smile passing in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all.
And we laughed them all
In a very short time.
Time
Is tapping on my forehead,
Hanging from my mirror,
Rattling the teacups,
And I wonder,
How long can I delay?
We're
OUT ON THE STREET
Out on the street, dead on my feet
At the mercy of the stone-cold night
It's hard to compete
In a dead-end street
With frustration in your line of sight
Do you ever stop to think
Do you ever stop at all
Do you have the time to feel
And if you do
Do you know the feeling's real
Followed a sign that
Pointed the way
And I found myself
Right back at that start
I like to feel good
I've tried feeling sad
But I can't stand a broken heart
Don't wanna wait till my dyin' day
To realise
I guess I'm lucky in
A strange kinda way
'Cause it's clear before my eyes
A grey cloud they say
Hides a surprise
But it rained until I lost my belief
Just close your eyes
We'll show you the way
But I believe I've lost my faith
One man speaks and one man does
While another soul wields the sword
I hear you all, but I still can't see
Just who it is
Who speaks the chosen word