words and music by Joe Jackson)



Shall I stay or go

Through the door



Will the pen to flow

Watch the stars

Sleep's a chore



The moon is growing cold

It hangs like a sliver of tin

How do our dreams unfold

And why are my bones feeling thin



I watch my pen as though

My fingers could shatter like icicles

And before my eyes

Lie glittering and useless

On a field of snow



(C) 1994 Pokazuka Ltd. (ASCAP