| Take a shot off your drawer on the floor
|
| Then you crawl to the bedroom
|
| But we stop back to dull conversations grow old
|
| You and I, we have not tell a word and while
|
| I’m losing my humour
|
| You’re losing your smile
|
| And the night portrays us,
|
| the moon betrays us
|
| And the dark end covers us
|
| And under the covers,
|
| like second hand lovers tonight
|
| Seasons and sorrows and pictures we took
|
| You stop smoking, I’m reading a book
|
| I’m losing my vision
|
| You’re losing your looks
|
| And the music plays better, plays sweet
|
| To let your hair down your own heart, you sit
|
| And you crawl to the bed
|
| But it’s not bad as it seems
|
| And the night portrays us,
|
| the moon betrays us
|
| And the dark end covers us
|
| And under the covers,
|
| like second hand lovers tonight
|
| Something about my voice
|
| reminds you of
|
| something I used to say
|
| you used to love
|
| And the night portrays us
|
| the piano plays us
|
| And the dark end covers us
|
| And under the covers
|
| Like second hand lovers tonight |