| Best to leave before the crash
|
| You’ll be run off the road into the river, flowers splashed
|
| As the crowds arrive fashionably late
|
| To turn the key, turn the page, they won’t wait
|
| You’ve gone to nowhere all alone
|
| Like a lonely verse without its song
|
| When the crowds arrive and lines were long
|
| They turn the key, turn the page till you’re gone
|
| Now it’s setting in
|
| One or the other
|
| Was it me or the time?
|
| Did I hold you too tight?
|
| And run it into the ground
|
| Hurt is late and repressed
|
| Did our love see the death?
|
| It’s best to leave before the crash
|
| You’ll be run off the road into the river, flowers splashed
|
| As the crowds arrive to find what’s wrong
|
| To turn the key, turn the page without a sound
|
| I can see where I don’t belong
|
| A lonely verse without its song
|
| It’s one or the other
|
| It was me or the time
|
| Did I hold you too tight?
|
| And run it into the ground
|
| See where I don’t belong
|
| A lonely verse without its song
|
| Hurt is late and repressed
|
| Did our love see the death? |