| In the error of the Brexochasm
|
| In the terror of I-told-you-so
|
| I met a Vietnamese-Parisian garments dealer with a beautiful soul
|
| Finally fulfilling my potential
|
| Success arrives belatedly
|
| I’m seeing in the end that mere survival is serenity
|
| Living in a Neo-Weimar
|
| They read my visa in the dark
|
| But all that now remains of our great union is a question mark
|
| And I love you like the Entry Ion
|
| Though I’m colder now than Sherlock Holmes
|
| As I forensically examine Brexit wounds
|
| We live in interesting times
|
| Sprawling on a Muji beanbag
|
| In an apartment I at last can call my own
|
| Although we may be wandering through a wasteland we are not alone
|
| You were everything I ever dreamed of
|
| You got what you deserved as well
|
| And now we’re living in the place Devoto prayed for
|
| A bright and clever hell
|
| Nobody requires these heroes
|
| Ranged along the borderline
|
| Things we don’t believe in made us zeroes in this worst of times
|
| Now we have to live without Bowie
|
| And Sylvia Kristel is dead
|
| And I’ve grown even older than myself but I always was ahead
|
| Citizens of Neo-Weimar
|
| You can read our visas in the dark
|
| But all that now remains of our great union is a question mark
|
| And you’re everything I ever dreamed of
|
| But I may be running out of time
|
| At least the world and I have that in common
|
| We are partners in crime
|
| In the terror of the Brexochasm
|
| In the error of I-told-you-so
|
| I met a Vietnamese-Parisian garments dealer with a beautiful soul |