: You turn on your side like you have to face North Or else you can't sleep : the unwritten law But how can you sleep with my heart so loud? Like a scream
: Outside, the fairground in snow Revolves like a waltz, funeral slow And summer has gone, collapsed like a chair Like the heart of a bird, a bell on
: The end of a dark, tired year I slept bad, in bad dreams, on bad beer I tried to get on but you nagged in my ear And London is fucked - a busted bike
: Started mailroom Moved up through Clerical, now Obituaries I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I'm the teacher's son
: When I'm done, this night will fear me Ghosts of ghosts of ghosts will hear me Black just got blacker Attacked became attacker When I'm done, this
: Tonight, I can't sleep, the heart's all wires The moon is widowed, the stars, retired i'll never travel and I'm always tired but I still love you and
: Came to London to find myself but in ten million people Where do you start? Drunk at a party You asked me if I was someone else and I say "Yeah, if
lights Speed the road, rush the lights Even bad girls sleep tonight Even bad girls sleep tonight Their aspirin white legs, scarred by young lust's overbite Even bad girls sleep
: Out of season, out of heart, I cross you off beneath the stars Autumn leaves a nasty scar and with the leaves, the heart departs You're off the map
: The tollbooth martyrs, 21 - 56 Leave their lives at the gate and beneath the standard issue crucifix Push their summers to the side of the plate Live
Came to London to find myself but in ten million people Where do you start? Drunk at a party You asked me if I was someone else and I say "Yeah, if it
Outside, the fairground in snow Revolves like a waltz, funeral slow And summer has gone, collapsed like a chair Like the heart of a bird, a bell on the
Started mailroom Moved up through Clerical, now Obituaries I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I'm the teacher's son
Tonight, I can't sleep, the heart's all wires The moon is widowed, the stars, retired i'll never travel and I'm always tired but I still love you and
The end of a dark, tired year I slept bad, in bad dreams, on bad beer I tried to get on but you nagged in my ear And London is fucked - a busted bike
The tollbooth martyrs, 21 - 56 Leave their lives at the gate and beneath the standard issue crucifix Push their summers to the side of the plate Live
You turn on your side like you have to face North Or else you can't sleep : the unwritten law But how can you sleep with my heart so loud? Like a scream