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It's Saturday night, it feels like a |
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Sunday in some ways |
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If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away, for a few days |
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Be that as it may, you can't only say, you are lonely |
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You are but a young girl and you're working your way |
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Through the phoneys |
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Coffee on, all the milk's gone |
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Such a sad light and fading |
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Yourself you touch, but not too much |
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You've heard it's degrading |
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High heels all those car wheels |
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All the losers are groovin' |
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Your dreams such a strange scene |
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Images are moving |
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You put the coffee on and all the milk's gone |
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Such a sad light and fading |
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Yourself you touch, but not too much |
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Certain people tell you it's degrading |
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It's Saturday night, it feels like a |
|
Sunday in some ways |
|
If you had any sense, you would maybe go away for a few days |
|
Be that as it may, you can't only say you're lonely |
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You are but a young girl and you're working your way |
|
Through the phoneys |
