Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
Crowded House
We stand on guard 'til our eyes grow so heavy
We hang on tight 'til our hands grow so weak
All precautions prepare you for nothing
When lights go down on the street
And when the morning comes
You won't remember too much of anything at all
And in my future of fantastic visions
They're tall and sleek and they tower over me
Tie me down and I'll beg them for mercy
I'm paralysed in my sleep
And when the morning comes
I won't remember too much of anything at all
Before they break in to steal the silver
Thieves come 'round to admire the loss
At the end of each waking hour
Is just one more chime on the clock
And when the morning comes
You won't be aware of his touch or anything at all