| And the windy wind
|
| and the rainy rain
|
| make pearls on the morning train
|
| her hands
|
| her pace
|
| the New York tan on her face
|
| And the weekend radio explains
|
| where there is love there’s always pain
|
| and the sunset boys
|
| with their hearts torn
|
| haven’t cried since the day they were born
|
| Somewhere in the back of my head
|
| I can hear someone say
|
| You can make love leave
|
| but you can’t make love stay
|
| And the line of cars
|
| slow and sweet
|
| like silver honey down the street
|
| and the police looks the other way
|
| busy trading vacation days
|
| And the business saints are on their way
|
| to perform their miracles
|
| to save the day
|
| And a bit of hurt is in the air
|
| leaving teardrops everywhere
|
| Somewhere in the back of my head
|
| I can hear someone say
|
| You can make love leave
|
| but you can’t make love stay
|
| And the weekend radio extends
|
| there is no love
|
| but let’s pretend
|
| and the midnight girls
|
| with their hearts worn
|
| still not sure what a heart is for
|
| Somewhere in the back of my head
|
| I can hear someone say
|
| You can make love leave
|
| but you can’t make love stay
|
| Somewhere in the back of my head
|
| I can hear someone say
|
| You can make love leave
|
| but you can’t make love stay |