The most courteous mistakes are often made
On hot days in the shade
When the orchestra plays out of tune all day
Our histories are made
And when the queen of spades calls out to say
"Let's cancel this parade"
We can do our best to celebrate in vain
In the buildings we invade
But the ghosts that travel on the breeze won't follow me if I get up to leave
And the only thing that's stopping me is underneath your clothes and in my dreams
Shadow boxing gargoyles in the rain
Will leave us feeling drained
But no more than the everyday mundane
That we needlessly maintain
When every building starts to look the same
We'll need a new campaign
To show us what the future might attain
By a century-old play
But the ghosts that travel on the breeze won't follow me if I get up to leave
And the only thing that's stopping me is underneath your clothes and in my dreams
And the only thing that's stopping me is underneath your clothes and in my dreams