There was Satan behind our backs
Walking with us on the London Bridge
I didn’t know
but you probably were aware of it
judging by the level of your paranoia
For me, just slightly off, romantic darkly
Everything was perfect.
Now the love is gone,
The war is on, which was then just hanging in our verses –
I would like to have a pink house with a white porcelain in it,
You could go in,
You could go out,
no pressure,
The problem is, I don’t have a palace,
no single room of independence –
I guess, that’s fate,
What can I do
Some people loose in checkers.
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