| This is a calling card
|
| Maybe it will be a farewell note
|
| The poison fountain pen now requires the antidote
|
| But if I avert your gaze
|
| And I should become a shrinking flower
|
| Just punch me on the arm
|
| This could be our finest hour
|
| 'Til now this was my view
|
| But I’m counting on you
|
| How am I ever going to make you see?
|
| Nothing in this ugly world comes easily
|
| I want you to be…
|
| My lovely hooligan
|
| Come by and smash my pane
|
| 'Til I can see right through
|
| My little blue window
|
| This is a fingerprint
|
| Maybe you will feel a fond caress
|
| But when you start to speak
|
| Are you tempted to confess?
|
| Well, I was a gloomy soul
|
| Never thought I’d see a brighter day
|
| The dark interior
|
| Blows those silver clouds away
|
| 'Til now this was my view
|
| But I’m counting on you
|
| How am I ever going to make you see?
|
| Nothing in this ugly world comes easily
|
| I want you to be…
|
| My lovely hooligan
|
| Come by and smash my pane
|
| 'Til I can see right through
|
| My little blue window |