| Put your sweet fingers
|
| A little closer to the keyboard
|
| It’s hard to read between your lines
|
| We were the clock hands at midnight
|
| Now you’re four whole hours behind
|
| Put your sweet fingers a little closer to the keyboard
|
| I can’t quite see the whites of your eyes
|
| Though you bat your eyelids from across the ocean
|
| And I fall over in their breeze
|
| I don’t bring you spices from the East
|
| I don’t bring you the world’s you crave
|
| 'Cos everyday you need a new one
|
| Just like Mr Benn, just like Mr Benn
|
| Put your sweet fingers a little closer to the keyboard
|
| We pass light bits in the night
|
| Though you send your flare to the horizon
|
| I just stare and blink in your light
|
| I don’t speak in all your tongues
|
| So I don’t even know if I’ll be welcome
|
| But what if I appeared as if by magic?
|
| Just like in Mr Benn
|
| So go if you’re going
|
| You keep pouring when I say when
|
| Come home when your
|
| Work there is done
|
| Just like Mr Benn
|
| Put your sweet fingers
|
| A little closer to the keyboard
|
| It’s hard to read between your lines
|
| We were the clock hands at midnight
|
| Now you’re four whole hours behind |