You can't erase the paper chase She'll make you players in the bright merry morning She'll run and hide and leave you the paper Promises behind her as she runs across the square You can't win the race, she will set the pace You'll hear her laughing just behind the foolish fences Throw back the gate and find the piece of paper Lying on the curbstone but the lady won't be there And later in the day, you will be searching for a way To let her know, you're ready for her little game to end 'Cause it's getting dark and then You'll see her face, a glimpse of lace And you'll go running through the last sweet dying day dreams Calling her name but she's been home an hour Laughing at the mirror and she combs her paper hair And later in the day, you will be searching for a way To let her know you're ready for her little game to end 'Cause it's getting dark and then You'll see her face, a glimpse of lace And you'll go running through the last sweet dying day dreams Calling her name but she's been home an hour Laughing at the mirror and she combs her paper hair