The People Passing By Might Say
It-‘s Not Only What We Love To Hate
We Sleep On The Ground To Escape Our Fears
And We Take A Mop To Dry Our Tears
The World Is Still Turning Slowly
And Through The Night We Hear Them Screaming
Suddenly Your Heart-‘s Not Where It Used To Be
It-‘s Not Anywhere It-‘s Supposed To Be
And If The Earth Runs Out Of Earth
Because One Man Is Not Enough
To Calm The Music In His Head
He Always Wishes He Was Dead
Out Of Time And Into Space
We Walk Into The Frozen Waste
We Look Behind At Our Own Feet
We Look At All We Don-‘t Have To Eat
Maybe In Two-Thousand Ten
I Hope The Killers Meet Again
It Makes Some Sense, You Have To Say
If Not Now And If Not Today
But We Watch And Wait From The Window
And Sit And Think About Our Lives
On A Couch We Still Look Into The Eyes
Deserted And Lonely But They-‘re Still Eyes