The honey taste still hangs on my tongue. There's so many things to tell you. But now you're gone, now you're gone. . The price of the words I could never say.
Down here at the bottom. When you're staring at the top. With a head full of ideas. I'm only flesh and blood. . On an eiderdown of glory. And a pillow of desire.
Fourteen hours of working shifts. In early morning Mersey mists. Too tired to taste the cornflakes on your tongue. . As morning hits the docks. You dream of all the ships there must have been.