| I hear the song, they come from nowhere
|
| As I stare up at the ceiling
|
| Where there once was a connection
|
| There is an absence of any feeling
|
| The words to me mean nothing now
|
| Nor will they ever again
|
| They speak of losing someone as if it’s final
|
| As I drift closer to the end
|
| There are no songs
|
| For the man of infirmity
|
| Well the arrow through the heart
|
| And the needle through the vein
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| Can’t be bothered with any heartache
|
| It’s got nothing on this pain
|
| Now I don’t want some extravagant production
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| No nostalgia at my age
|
| All I want is someone who knows my shame
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| Who can play me off the stage
|
| There are no songs
|
| For the man of infirmity |