I've been walking the straight line

Living in my best friend's pocket

Been looking at my life

All the time, all the time

How can I do my work?

Always looking over my shoulder



When everything falls apart

When you make a false start

Then you can't turn the pages

And you can't find the door

When you're nobody's baby

Not even close to pulling through



We fill up stolen hours,

Hunger for the touch of money

Building crooked towers

on the faultline, faultline

When I came running to you

I was following the light from a dead star



When everything falls apart

When you meet a false heart

Then you can't turn the pages

And you can't find the door

When you're nobody's baby

Not even close to pulling through





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--- James Anthony Peter Matthew Mark Luke John Bowditch ---

-------------- pfgumby@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au --------------

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----- And the piano smells like a piano, -----

----- And the microphone smells like a microphone, -----

----- And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar -----

----- and it gets all soggy and sinks to the bottom. -----

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