You are like a broken record
stuck on forty five
Chilling to some Cohen lullaby
trying to catch his vibe

You dont have the rhythm
you dont have the blues
Like any broken record
you cant find the grooves

So you think if you start dancing
swaying to a beat
maybe all this movement
will get you back onto the street

That applause you are hearing
its no applause at all
its the sound of one hand clapping
its the writing on the wall
and you cant look in a mirror
nor can you look away
from the face thats staring back at you
that stench of times decay

Now you can bring me flowers
you can bring me wine
though we will
never never ever
dance
The way we danced
That day we danced
entwined

Then as any coward does
you pack up all your kit
place it in your traveling bag
hope that it  still fits
Heading for the station
you see there is no turning back
like any broken record you cant find the track
like any broken record you cant find the track
like any brok record....