We’re living on the corner of the bed. You talk about bridges over water, I talk about hessian wood. And we sleep oh so close, but we never really close our eyes. It’s not so different than last time after all. Yet we try to take it like men for once. Tomorrow was too late, so I’ll wear yesterday’s necktie with pride. Outside, the world is going down. We met on the road to ruin, but we both know our way around, and I fear not for the times to come. So close your eyes. Take my hand. And boogaloo a rhapsody divine.