|
The streets are covered in chalk
|
The shops are boarded up
|
The bodies are carried back down from the square
|
|
He begins to wonder
|
If it always was this hot
|
Or is it just the clothes
|
That he now wears
|
|
Napoleon sheds his skin
|
In the summer when the sun is high
|
He never knows when to quit
|
When to stop...
|
Or when to say die
|
|
Pick the bones, get a tan
|
Or wander
|
Underground
|
She would not have left him anyway
|
Wait by the sea, wait in the sun
|
As if the time
|
Stood still
|
Did he get involved
|
In whichever side
|
That paid
|
|
Napoleon sheds his skin
|
In the summer when the sun is high
|
He never knows when to quit
|
When to stop...
|
Or when to say die
|
|
...And time stands still behind
|
The distant gates
|
Time moves on outside in the sun
|
Then he wonders which side he's really on
|
Then he doesn't care,
|
It's so grey in there
|
He just wants to get back to her...
|
|
Napoleon sheds his skin
|
In the summer when the sun is high
|
He never knew when to quit
|
When to stop...
|
Or when to say die...
|
|
She waits for him by the wharf
|
By the sea where they used to go
|
She sings a song that they'd sing
|
Then waits for the echo...
|
|
Na...poleon
|
Sheds his skin
|
Na...poleon
|
Sheds his skin
|
Na...poleon
|
Sheds his skin
|
|
I've got to get out of here
|
Can she save me
|
I've got to get out of here
|
Can she save me
|
I've got to get out of here...
|
Can you hear me..
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
NAPOLEON SHEDS HIS SKIN
|
Tom Cochrane |