All I do is sleep all day, and think of you
a memory of the cushion life I'm clinging to
the sombre chords of our song, the fading
love is no big truth
driven by our genes, we are simple selfish beings
a symphony that's you
Passion and its brother hate, they come and go
could easily be made to stay for longer though
Another view of what there is to it,
getting me through it
I'll never need it again
