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Everything comes and goes |
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Marked by lovers and styles of clothes. |
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Things that you've held high |
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And told yourself were true, |
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Lost or changing |
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As the days comes down to you. |
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It's down to you, constant stranger. |
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You're a kind person, |
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You're a cold person too. |
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It's down to you, |
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It all comes down to you, ooh. |
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Go down to the pick-up station. |
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You're craving warmth and beauty. |
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You settle for less than fascination, |
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A few drinks later you're not so choosy. |
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The closing light strip of the shadows, |
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On strange new flesh you found. |
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Clutching the night to you like a fig leaf. |
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You hurry to the blackness and the blankets, |
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And you lay down an impression of your loneliness. |
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In the morning there are lovers in the street. |
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They look so high, you brush against a stranger, |
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And you both appologize. |
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Old friends seem indifferent. |
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You must have brought that on. |
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Old bonds have broken down. |
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Love is gone, ooh love is gone, |
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Written on your spirit the sad song. |
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Love is gone, ooh love is gone, |
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Written on your spirit the sad song. |
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Love is gone. |
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Everything comes and goes. |
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Pleasure moves on too early, |
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Trouble leaves too slow. |
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Just when you're thinking |
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That you've finally got it made, |
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Bad news comes knocking for you |
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At your garden gate. |
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Knocking for you, constant stranger. |
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You're a brute, you're an angel, |
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You can crawl, you can fly too. |
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It's down to you , |
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It all comes down to you. |
