And the morning comes with coffee in your chair
|
And the smell of cigarettes is in your hair
|
There¡¯s a sound that shouts outside the hotel room
|
And at night the bulbs of cameras flash at you
|
|
And if we don¡¯t have a future
|
If our lives split like shattered bits of glass
|
And if we don¡¯t have a future
|
Just leave your autograph
|
Your autograph
|
|
And at night the ball of neon lit our fate
|
And our shadows painted many different shapes
|
But the movies turn complex in front of you
|
There¡¯s just a smell of cigarettes left in the room
|
|
And we made fake conversation
|
And we peered through broken bits of glass
|
And it¡¯s all just complication
|
But too complex to ever last
|
|
And if we don¡¯t have a future
|
And if this is dissolved into the past
|
And if we don¡¯t have a future
|
Just leave your autograph
|
Your autograph
|
Just leave your autograph
|
Your autograph
|
Just leave your autograph
|
Your autograph
|
|
-----------------
|
Autograph
|
The Tears |