Hanging round the romance section only For hours It seems we found a different route to hell For us Not to become the morons that we deal with All day We made a pact to stay true to ourselves But panicked We've got no grip Got no clue Got no golden ticket Floating round this clutter Like we've lost all gravity Just hoping for some crutch And some depravity Come on, Phil, who wants an easy lover? For real We need someone to shove us through this mess We made Now meet your fate Meet your phantom Meet your true reflection Floating round this clutter Like we've lost all gravity Just hoping for some crutch And some depravity No one set out To make the Hall of Fame of Love Someone to bear with me Is all I'm dreaming of With all this baggage With remorse But with my arms around you