| 作词 : Jobson, Wetton | |
| Don't tell me that the wages of sin are for real | |
| The writing's on the wall – what's the score what's the deal? | |
| No wonder we can't see through the wood to the trees | |
| No perfume we design can ever veil the sickness on the breeze | |
| By the light of day | |
| In the dead of night |
| zuo ci : Jobson, Wetton | |
| Don' t tell me that the wages of sin are for real | |
| The writing' s on the wall what' s the score what' s the deal? | |
| No wonder we can' t see through the wood to the trees | |
| No perfume we design can ever veil the sickness on the breeze | |
| By the light of day | |
| In the dead of night |
| zuò cí : Jobson, Wetton | |
| Don' t tell me that the wages of sin are for real | |
| The writing' s on the wall what' s the score what' s the deal? | |
| No wonder we can' t see through the wood to the trees | |
| No perfume we design can ever veil the sickness on the breeze | |
| By the light of day | |
| In the dead of night |
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