| I slipped into the cloak you left
|
| I fiddle around in the ashtray
|
| To find your cigarette pinkish red
|
| I light it and take a drag
|
| I swear I’m losing it
|
| With all these erased recordings, I’m rearranging parts
|
| You should accept
|
| We’ll probably remain this way to the end, in steps
|
| Underneath the sheets, I find your
|
| Makeup and shoes in a bag laid open
|
| Grab my keys and some money
|
| And circle around the lake
|
| I guess you’re losing it
|
| I like to believe that maybe you’re a lot lik me
|
| Try using this equality we might need in th air
|
| 'Cause there are no more left like you
|
| A picture-perfect strange
|
| Imagined in one shape
|
| Unchained
|
| Tempt my spirit within my name
|
| We crawled in the tomb and release some honey
|
| Eighteen hundred million ways striving to make it last
|
| There is no one left like you
|
| A picture-perfect strange
|
| Imagined in one shape
|
| Unchained
|
| There are no more thrills I’ll need
|
| Than the desire that we shared
|
| From the channels of our dreams
|
| To the grave
|
| I’ll find you again somewhere, I believe
|
| You’ll find me somewhere again, I believe |