| Somewhere on the outside is our passion
|
| Somewhere deep inside we know the truth
|
| Somewhere on the inside we are crashing
|
| Trying to find love from a telephone booth
|
| Love from a telephone booth
|
| Love from a telephone…
|
| Love from a telephone booth
|
| Somewhere in a dream we are happy
|
| Living here just don’t seem to give
|
| Yet if we don’t make it snappy
|
| We find out that dying is no way to live
|
| Dying is no way to live
|
| Dying is no way…
|
| Dying is no way to live
|
| No way to live
|
| Someday is a term to be forgotten
|
| Today is a word we will forget
|
| Yesterday just ain’t worth reliving
|
| And tomorrow they make seem like a threat
|
| Tomorrow they make seem like a threat
|
| Tomorrow they make it seem…
|
| Make it seem like a threat
|
| Make it seem like a threat
|
| Somewhere in the dark there is a lover
|
| Somewhere in the night a woman shines
|
| Yet outside there are all those others
|
| Who have felt the pain of love a thousand times
|
| Pain of love a thousand times
|
| Pain of love a thousand times
|
| A thousand times
|
| A thousand times
|
| Passion is not older than stardust
|
| Love is not younger than hate
|
| Passion is not older than stardust
|
| Love is not younger than hate
|
| Not younger than hate
|
| Not younger than hate… hate…hate
|
| Not younger than hate |