| Lyrics |
Well, Tommy woke that morningwith a headfull of rocksand Sylvia was in shock.
The story they'd been fakinghad frozen on their lipsand fallen through the brush of fingertipsand though they packed their bags,ready for the road,the curtains and the bedroom doorstayed closed.
For Sylvia and Tommythis is a curtain callthey've been running away for yearsbut pride in flightprecedes a certain fall.
So Tommy rubs his stubbleas if to check his face is thereand Sylvia combs her hairjust like nothing really happenedthey'll carry on as before...but this thing won't work, will it, any more.
And though the bags are packedready for the roadthe curtains and the bedroom doorstay closed.
For Sylvia and Tommythere's nowhere left to hide...they've been running for yearsto find some kind of thrillto take away the emptinessthat they both feel inside.
Making the fictionalout of the matter of fact;masquerade the picturebut now the frame's all cracked.
For Sylvia and Tommythere's nothing left to trythey've been running for yearsto find some kind of lifethat offers an excitementthat the rest of us pass by.
So Tommy woke that morningwith a headfull of rocksand Sylvia was in shock.
This story they'd been fakingwas frozen on their lipsand falling through the brush of fingertipsand though the bags are packedready for the roadthe curtains and the bedroom doorstay closed.
For Sylvia and Tommythere's nowhere left to gothey've been running away so longthere's just no strength to carry onthey can't get back to what they knewa life abandoned once and long ago.(PH - Piano, Vox; David Lord - Keyboards, Orchestral Arrangement; Stuart Gordon - Violin)
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