| After the ceasefire that they swore would last
|
| She had the bright idea «To hell with the past!»
|
| That’s where love lay bleeding licking at it’s wounds
|
| The times were never changing sticking to their guns
|
| She thought she really meant it, that’s the honest truth
|
| She felt it in her marrow, she felt it in her boots
|
| After the ceasefire, after the ceasefire
|
| The man she married, he was something else
|
| He adored the chaos, smashing all the delft
|
| The man she married, he was something else
|
| He had the sudden notion it’s time to call a truth
|
| It’s time to lead a quiet life for the love of Jeeze
|
| Let’s sit down together and engage in talks of peace
|
| After the ceasefire, after the ceasefire
|
| He was Irish Catholic, she had English blood
|
| They met in a good restaurant, they gave the secret knot
|
| She ordered fish and lentils, he the kidney stew
|
| She played with bold impulses, wine turned his lips blue
|
| They left in separate taxis to the same address
|
| In case someone was watching, and there they did confess
|
| After the ceasefire, after the ceasefire
|
| It was all the others' fault, they thought at any rate
|
| After the ceasefire to put an end to hate
|
| She was reaching for her knife, he a fork and spoon
|
| They sat about devouring the poison of the moon
|
| Shared a fatal cigarette neither one would light
|
| Their breath was flame enough, nobody said goodnight
|
| After the ceasefire, after the ceasefire
|
| After the ceasefire that they swore would last
|
| They had the strange idea of living in the past
|
| That’s where love lies bleeding licking at it’s wounds
|
| The times are never changing sticking to their guns
|
| They sit about devouring the poison of the moon
|
| The times were never singing the same tune
|
| After the ceasefire
|
| After the ceasefire
|
| After the ceasefire
|
| After the ceasefire |