My arms are the waves. 
Let them carry you. 
Over wreck and reef, 
tentacles and teeth. 
When sedatives are hard to find 
I'll give you one of mine. 
I'll change your story line. 
I'll take you back again 
on the road to San Sebastian. 
The 'Furs are on the radio. 
I guess that shows how long ago 
I wished you were mine. 
Then you'd never cry 
'We're better off dead'. 
The best and the worst times are only in your head. 
Your voice is music I'll persue 
down the throat of the well. 
I'll float where others fell. 
In the dark you can't view 
what's right in front of you. 
The moonlight hits your skin 
and the constellations spin. 
Coming down, you're just coming down 
Gravity kills, endorphines drown. 
Do you wish that you'd never left the ground? 
Then you'd never have said 
'We're better off dead.' 
The best and the worst times are only in your head.