| On the hard fast train, on the road to gain
|
| Something gets right through to your telling bone
|
| There’s a sudden itch, an electric twitch
|
| Sometimes I swear this body’s got a mind of it’s own
|
| This is the naked truth, this is the light
|
| There’s only one place left to go
|
| Auberge (Auberge)
|
| Auberge (Auberge)
|
| You meet the silent type on a windy trail
|
| With a shiny cloak and an unseen silver dagger
|
| You can talk till you ache, give yourself one more break
|
| You can tell by the look on his face that it just doesn’t matter
|
| 'Cause this is the naked truth and this is the light
|
| There’s only one place left to go
|
| Auberge (Auberge)
|
| Auberge (Auberge)
|
| Oh, give me a weekend, give me a day
|
| Don’t like what I’m seeing though I hear what you say
|
| Think with a dagger and you’ll die on your knees
|
| Begging for mercy, singing: Please, Mister, please
|
| 'Cause this is the naked truth and this is the light
|
| But there’s only one place left to go
|
| Auberge, Auberge
|
| Auberge (Auberge)
|
| Auberge, Auberge
|
| Auberge, Auberge
|
| (Auberge, Auberge)
|
| (Auberge) |