| 50:50, 1 to 1
|
| Leave the television on
|
| I’ve heard it sing to me
|
| It sounds like London
|
| All parking cars and tiny men
|
| Rolling round again
|
| Never take your eyes off
|
| Naked photographs: a breast I’ll never have
|
| It’s calling out my name
|
| A syllable you shout
|
| When you need someone to doubt you
|
| But I’ve heard it before
|
| I’ve heard it before
|
| It sings the same, it’s just another name
|
| You’ll write down on your list
|
| It’s the loveliest kind
|
| You’ll never be mine
|
| So you’ll never be alone again
|
| Alone again
|
| Sanity’s calling
|
| He knows I’m sitting proud on the edge
|
| And Julia’s waiting
|
| She’s got her hand up in my head
|
| But I’m nearly up in heaven
|
| It’ll keep on coming round again
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same
|
| Cut the figure of your son
|
| When he sees you without clothes on
|
| It sounds like Liphook
|
| All singing birds and absent men
|
| Rolling around again
|
| Never take your eyes off
|
| That photograph, a touch I’ll never have
|
| Now it’s crying out my name
|
| A syllable you scream
|
| When you need someone to dream you up
|
| But I’ve heard it before
|
| I’ve heard it before
|
| It sings the same, it’s just another name
|
| You’ll write down on your list
|
| It’s the loveliest kind
|
| You’ll never be mine
|
| So you’ll never be alone again
|
| Alone again
|
| Sanity’s calling
|
| He knows I’m sitting proud on the edge
|
| Julia’s waiting
|
| She’s got her hand up in my head
|
| But I’m nearly up in heaven
|
| It’ll keep on coming round again
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same
|
| The words don’t change
|
| But the song’s never gonna be the same |