| You look from the roof to the smoke on good nights
|
| Tall dreams at the beck of the stars seem alright
|
| Your heart aglow
|
| 'Cause you know, you know
|
| It was all raised up for your life
|
| For your eyes
|
| You live in the quiet that was sewn for good wives
|
| Four kids — with the cat, might as well be called five
|
| Oh, you know, you know
|
| It’s all for show
|
| The city winks at your smile
|
| It’s your style
|
| You know it’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial
|
| Time is a fickle thrill
|
| It’s not denial, not denial
|
| And there’s a kind of heat
|
| You leave behind when you go
|
| It’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial
|
| You lust for a love with the feel of old shoes
|
| Great highs never brand, but the lows are all bruise
|
| They know, they know
|
| 'Cause a childhood shows
|
| A prize is hard to refuse
|
| No excuse
|
| You swear you’ll come home in the week of New Year
|
| No leaves on the oaks, oh, the past is too near
|
| Oh, you know, you know
|
| How they miss you so
|
| Wish you all the best with old tears
|
| With old fears
|
| You know it’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial
|
| Time is a fickle thrill
|
| It’s not denial, not denial
|
| And there’s a kind of heat
|
| You leave behind when you go
|
| It’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial
|
| You know it’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial
|
| Time is a fickle thrill
|
| It’s not denial, not denial
|
| And there’s a kind of heat
|
| You leave behind when you go
|
| It’s not denial
|
| Not denial, not denial |