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So you think your having good times |
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With the boy that you just met |
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Kicking sand from beach to beach |
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Your clothes all soaking wet |
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But if you look around and see |
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A shadow on the run |
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Don't be too upset because its just a paper sun |
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Ahh Paper Sun, Ahh Paper Sun |
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In the room where you've been sleeping |
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All your clothes all thrown about |
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Cigarettes burn window sills |
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Your meter's all run out |
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But then again its nothing |
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You just split when day is done |
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Pitching lips to nowhere, hung up on the paper sun |
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Standing in the cool of my room |
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Fresh cut flowers give me sweet perfume |
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Too much sun will burn! |
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When you're feeling tired and lonely |
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You see people going home |
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You can't make the train fare |
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Or the six pence for the phone |
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And icicles your crying |
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From your cheek have just begun |
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Dont be sad, good times are had |
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Beneath the paper sun |
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Daylight breaks while you sleep on the sand |
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A seagull is stealing the ring from your hand |
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The boy who had given you so much fun |
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Has left you so cold in the paper sun |
