| You and me got the whole day off
|
| Take a trip to Vincent Van Gogh
|
| But the line went halfway round the block
|
| And we’re looking for a place to rest
|
| Every seat in every bar was set
|
| So we turned back to The Grand Hotel
|
| And the rain came hard
|
| A million people on a protest march
|
| Every choice, every path was mistaken
|
| You and me got the whole thing sussed
|
| Gray man is shadowing us
|
| Wild conspiracies turn to dust
|
| Hear the sound of cathedral bells
|
| Cash ringing at the gates of Hell
|
| And fairground hooligans push and swell
|
| They’re the darkest days of a free man
|
| Lying in the streets of Amsterdam
|
| Nearly fell underneath the tram
|
| But I picked myself up
|
| Every temptation and device
|
| All the diamonds and the spice
|
| I would give anything for the sight
|
| Of an honest man (Hey)
|
| Eyes swim in emptiness
|
| I was looking at a hotel guest
|
| He blew me a big sarcastic kiss
|
| And the Lord walked in
|
| With a monocle and lips so thin
|
| Saw the barman wink as he poured his brandy
|
| They’re the darkest days of a free man
|
| Lying in the streets of Amsterdam
|
| Nearly fell underneath the tram
|
| But I picked myself up
|
| Every temptation up in lights
|
| All the diamonds and the spice
|
| Could take profit from the vice
|
| Of another man
|
| Amsterdam
|
| Cold, cold
|
| Cold, cold
|
| You belong |