How lonely you are waiting at the Sunday park
I'll elude you, I will lose you
Existing were no soul apart

You stand on a platform
Your effigy dissolves in my hands

When I feel like someone to lie on
And I feel like someone to rely on

You can't wake up


Illusions born of the air
Something seems so precious there

I'll elude you, I will lose you
As rehearsal of my despair

When I feel like someone to lie on
And I feel like someone to die on

You can't wake up
Oh here me
I'm what you have left

Here I am
In this necrologue of love

Writer : MCCOY, CARL/YEATS, PETER/WRIGHT, ALEX/WRIGHT, PAUL
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group