|
Milly passes from the swing |
|
Runs home for her tea |
|
Wants to twist her wedding ring |
|
And sink in her settee |
|
In the dark she asks aloud |
|
If they can really see |
|
But if you hold it carefully it breaks |
|
(Eventually) |
|
On a fairground ride they met |
|
A boy who held her hand |
|
For a moment he'd forget |
|
And she would understand |
|
But the bells inside her head |
|
Were all that she could hear |
|
But if you hold it carefully it breaks, |
|
(Eventually) |
|
We don't give up easily |
|
Drowning out the tide |
|
Drawing black and bleeding sea |
|
At least we stopped and tried |
|
And the crows flock overhead |
|
Moving restlessly |
|
And when you hold it over me it breaks |
|
(Eventually) |
