Everybody in the funhouse
|
Says they want out
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But we're taking our time
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'Cos we're in love with time
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Whole generations thinking of themselves
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As infidels and pop stars
|
While the bomb loses patience
|
We line up and just lean against the bar
|
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Stone cold sober, looking for bottles of love.
|
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Caught in the headlights
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Wide-eyed and ready to receive
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We are the dead life
|
Locked in dogfights, lost in disbelief
|
And these dark days
|
Make the nights seem brighter than they are
|
So while Fleet Street rolls and the moon glows
|
In the funhouse the fun starts
|
|
Stone cold sober, looking for bottles of love.
|
|
Born in the half-light
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Of threats and bribes
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In a hopeless porn parade
|
We get the dog's life, tidbits train us
|
What to wear, what not to say
|
When you're footloose but you just feel limbless
|
Life gets in the way
|
So we get loaded or totally legless
|
But stay the same
|
|
Stone cold sober, looking for bottles of love.
|
|
-----------------
|
Stone Cold Sober
|
| Del Amitri |
