No Exit
Album - 7 ottobre 2016 - Debaser id 1363350

It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me,
I sit and watch as tears go by.

My riches can't buy everything,
I want to hear the children sing.
All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground,
I sit and watch as tears go by.

It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Doing things I used to do
They think are new,
I sit and watch as tears go by.

Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm ...

Here I lie in my hospital bed,
Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again.
Oh, I don't think I can wait that long,
Oh, you see I'm not that strong.

The scream of the ambulance is sounding in my ears.
Tell me, Sister Morphine, how long have I been lying here ?
What am I doing in this place ?
Why does the doctor have no face ?
Oh, I can't crawl across the floor.
Can't you see, Sister Morphine, I'm just trying to score.

Well, it just goes to show things are not what they seem.
Please, Sister Morphine, turn my nightmare into dreams.
Oh, can't you see I'm fading fast
And that this shot will be my last.

Sweet Cousin Cocaine, lay your cool hands on my head.
Hey, Sister Morphine, you'd better make up my bed
For you know and I know in the morning I'll be dead,
And you can sit around and you can watch the clean white sheets stain red.

"The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.

At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.

Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.

At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.

The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.

At the age of thirty-seven she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair ..."