|
Whose sticky hands are these |
|
And what is this empty place? |
|
I could be happily lost but for your face |
|
Here stands an empty house |
|
That used to be full of life |
|
Now it's home for no one and his wife |
|
It's a hovel and |
|
Who can take your place? |
|
I can't face another day |
|
And who will shelter me? |
|
It's cold in here |
|
Cover me |
|
Under these fingertips |
|
A strange body rolls and dips |
|
I close my eyes and you're here again |
|
Later as day descends |
|
I'll shout from my window |
|
To anyone listening, "I'm losing" |
|
Who can take your place? |
|
I can't face another day |
|
And who will shelter me? |
|
It's cold in here |
|
Cover me |
|
Oh, in a plague of hateful questioning |
|
Tap dancing every syllable from ear to ear |
|
I hear the din of lovers jousting |
|
When I'm hiding with my head to the wall |
|
So who will shelter me? |
|
It's cold in here |