| At the back of my mind, on the tip of my tongue
|
| Begging to be forgotten
|
| Emphatically written, dramatically read
|
| Quoted completely verbatim
|
| It’s a spectator sport for the masochists
|
| And a grimace on the face of the masses
|
| In a side street café they can’t bear to watch
|
| But they’re still peering over their glasses
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| With an audience involved
|
| You don’t want to draw their attention
|
| I’m a coward after all
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| Ears are retracted and cutlery clatters
|
| To mask the sound of heart break
|
| They can go back to their coffee and cream
|
| While I take my leave with a handshake
|
| It’s a spectator sport for the masochists
|
| And a grimace on the face of the masses
|
| In a side street café they can’t bear to watch
|
| But they’re still peering over their glasses
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| With an audience involved
|
| You don’t want to draw their attention
|
| I’m a coward after all
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| It’s a spectator sport for the masochists
|
| And a grimace on the face of the masses
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| It’s a different kind of tension
|
| It’s a different kind of tension |