Sure was a hell of a mistake I made
|
But I sure am glad that I made it
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No way for a grown man to behave
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More the act of a teen opportunist
|
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I stand accused of losing my head
|
|
We sit so high on the city walls
|
Our tears wash clean the cobblestones
|
It's not so much that the thrill is gone
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Just a cleaner, sweeter, brighter thrill has come along
|
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I can sense trouble just around the bend
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And it's all been my kind of making
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I can't carry on with all this pretence
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When it's clear that my love has been fading
|
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I stand accused of the things I said
|
|
We sit so high on the city walls
|
Our tears wash clean the cobblestones
|
It's not so much that the thrill is gone
|
Just a cleaner, sweeter, brighter thrill has come along
|
|
-----------------
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Thrill Is Gone
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| Bernard Fanning |
