| Like a rope around my neck
|
| If I ran I’d lose your vote
|
| Maybe I should hit the deck
|
| Do I dare to cross your moat
|
| And salvage this old shipwreck?
|
| Well the dead are speaking here
|
| Through the things they’ve left behind
|
| In a letter inked in tears
|
| And emotions stamped and signed
|
| The messages aren’t always clear
|
| But diamonds inside you’ll find
|
| Spending half the time
|
| Holding onto «what is mine»
|
| But there’s enough space and time
|
| To go around, what goes around
|
| Comes around
|
| It’s coming around, it’s coming around
|
| Love’s a cup that’s always full
|
| But with you I’m not so sure
|
| A relentless push and pull
|
| While we look for what’s still pure
|
| Maybe we’ll find a time capsule
|
| And welcome it to the future
|
| Spending half the time
|
| Holding onto «what is mine»
|
| But there’s enough space and time
|
| To go around, what goes around
|
| Comes around
|
| It’s coming around, it’s coming around
|
| (Oooh)
|
| Now I need your antidote
|
| Only you can write that cheque
|
| Do you dare to cross this moat
|
| And salvage this old shipwreck
|
| Spending half the time
|
| Holding onto «what is mine»
|
| But there’s enough space and time
|
| To go around, what goes around
|
| Comes around
|
| It’s coming around, it’s coming around
|
| It’s coming around |