| You wait for a silence, I wait for a word
|
| Lie next to your frame, girl unobserved
|
| You change your position and you are changing me
|
| Casting these shadows where they shouldn’t be
|
| We’re interrupted by the heat of the sun
|
| Trying to prevent what’s already begun
|
| You’re just a body, I can smell your skin
|
| And when I feel it, you’re wearing thin
|
| But I’ve got a plan
|
| Why don’t you be the artist
|
| And make me out of clay
|
| Why don’t you be the writer
|
| And decide the words I say
|
| 'Cause I’d rather pretend
|
| I’ll still be there at the end
|
| Only it’s too hard to ask
|
| Won’t you try to help me
|
| Sat on your sofa, it’s all broken springs
|
| This isn’t the place for those violin strings
|
| I try out a smile and I aim it at you
|
| You must have missed it, you always do
|
| But I’ve got a plan
|
| Why don’t you be the artist
|
| And make me out of clay
|
| Why don’t you be the writer
|
| And decide the words I say
|
| 'Cause I’d rather pretend
|
| I’ll still be there at the end
|
| Only it’s too hard to ask
|
| Won’t you try to help me
|
| You wait, I wait, casting shadows, interrupted
|
| You wait, I wait, casting shadows, interrupted
|
| You wait, I wait, casting shadows
|
| Why don’t you be the artist
|
| And make me out of clay
|
| Why don’t you be the writer
|
| And decide the words I say
|
| 'Cause I’d rather pretend
|
| I’ll still be there at the end
|
| Only it’s too hard to ask
|
| Won’t you try to help me
|
| Why don’t you be the artist
|
| And make me out of clay
|
| Why don’t you be the writer
|
| And decide the words I say
|
| 'Cause I’d rather pretend
|
| I’ll still be there at the end
|
| Only it’s too hard to ask
|
| Won’t you try to help me |