|
I took off my clothes |
|
She took off hers too |
|
With no fanfares |
|
And no hallelujahs |
|
Throughout the night |
|
I would grind away the truth |
|
That there's nothing sadder |
|
Than sad, sad sex |
|
And the bad, bad news |
|
Is that I gave in |
|
To the ugly hand |
|
That first led me away from you |
|
The fun stuff |
|
Is not so fun without you |
|
So I drink until |
|
I fill my brim |
|
But there's nothing |
|
Fills me up the same |
|
As a tiny word |
|
Broadcast across the sea |
|
And should I go out |
|
To dance tonight? |
|
Well my two left feet |
|
Need your two right |
|
Or I'll spin around |
|
In circles endlessly |
|
The fun stuff |
|
Is not so fun without you |
|
Well the city was born |
|
Bright blue today |
|
And I whistled through |
|
The sunlit streets |
|
And my empty hand |
|
Felt cold and unused |
|
And I'm quite all right |
|
I get by just fine |
|
I'm not depressed |
|
Not most of the time |
|
It's just the fun stuff |
|
Is much less fun without you |
|
The fun stuff |
|
Is much less fun without you |
