(Difford/Tilbrook). . There she sits in an empty room. The look on her face says it all. A bruise appears round a crying eye. As the tear drops sadly fall.
WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see.. . I'm always touching myself.
We had PE on Tuesdays. And English on Wednesdays. School was a prison. Where I served my time. The teachers all loathed me. My attitude fooled them. They quite often nailed me.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . The head of a hunt on the wall by a painting. An upright piano stood locked by the door. In through the window. The light was fast fading.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I lost the children. But they can be found. Home in a red house just across town. Sitting in boxes. Of opened up toys. Watching The Simpsons.
Brain engages mouth. Mouth expresses thoughts. Of how we shared those fun fair rides. Beneath the brightness of the night. . Time can crowd the head. Like a sardine can.
She sat at the dressing room table. He flicked through the channels on cable. While talking of love in whispers. Voices humming like dusty transistors.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . As much as I love you. As much as I care. I just can't pretend that. The problem's not there. We know all the boundaries. From where we both stand.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . There's no tomorrow. When you feel sorrow,. There's just the evening. There's just the night,. To drink the feelings. Right out the ceiling.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . There is a voice within us all. That says destruct. Go to the wall. And you can't choose when this voice speaks. Deep in our souls.
She's independent, she's a modern woman. She needs no prompting on her should and shouldn't. It's always bosses, who wish that she wouldn't. . Files in the cabinet, so neatly numerical.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I heard the stomping of feet dancing. On the wooden floor upstairs. I wasn't in the mood for laughing. So I sat silent in my chair.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I lied to you, I've cheated too. So what friend can I be. But still you stick through thick and thin. Hoping that you'll change me.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I had finally beat my nerve. To watch her on the stage. Removing all her clothes. Revealing only age. Some men stared with a stun.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . He's taking her away. He's acting like a general. Generally his game is so familiar. He wants her to play. With a toaster and a kettle.
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Difford-Tilbrook. . Standing by the curate,. Hat over his eyes,. Smokes drifts slowly from him,. Looking kind and wise.. . Seen him in the papers,. Murdered by Malone,.
WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see.. . Business as usual at the harmony home.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . Today is none of our concern. That rewarding cigarette. That burns slowly by the bed. Fills the room with mystery. The apple ripens on the tree.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . When this young man comes rolling home. The lamp posts move and in the road. I sing and dance in falling rain. It's good to be back home again.