| So it begins, my eyes implore listen harder
|
| Spirit like a wavering flame
|
| Promiscuity of a failed romantic
|
| Trickles like water from the brain
|
| I’m face to face with my lonely portrait
|
| Dancing with sailors in tiny rooms
|
| The more scribbled the name bigger the fame
|
| Last chants for the slow dance
|
| And a drunkard sang like there was no tomorrow
|
| And I sung with that cub-mistress voice
|
| One step I’m nearer, alright, two steps I’m gone
|
| Sing time in an empty hall, sing on, sing on
|
| Sing time in an empty hall, sing on, sing on
|
| Deep in the discos where the children are grown
|
| I hear those stories of broken homes
|
| From my masturbation clones
|
| Last chants for the slow dance
|
| Last chants for the slow dance
|
| I’m the best of the bunch, always making the most
|
| You just like puppets watch my shadow
|
| Even dwarves started small and are wiser than most
|
| They sit in grey everyday
|
| Last chants for the slow dance
|
| Last chants for the slow dance |