["Oh my God, what a fabulous room!
Are all these your guitars?
This place is bigger than our apartment.
Uh, can I get a drink of water?
Do you want some? Huh?
Woah! Look at this tub!
Wanna take a baaath?!
What are you watchen'?
Hello? Are you feelin' okay?"]
Day after day, love turns grey.
Like the skin of a dying man.
Night after night, we pretend it's all right.
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder
and nothing is very much fun any more.
And I can feeeeeel
one of my turns coming on.
I feeeeeel
cold as razor blade, tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum.
Run to the bedroom ..
In the suitcase on the left you'll find my favourite axe.
Don't look so frightened, this is just a passing phase..
One of my bad days...
Would you like to watch T. V.?
Or get between the sheets?
Or contemplate the silent freeway?
Would you like something to eat?
Would you like to learn to fly?
Would you, would you like to see me try?
Oh! Oh no!
Would you like to call the cops?
Do you think it's time I stopped?
Why are you running away?
