The Lovesong Writer lyrics

Sitting alone in the dark of the stadium
He whispers his secrets into a cheap guitar
With the flick of his wrist he turns words into melodies
Chords into church bells, that fill up the alleys
where lovers entwine in the heat of the night
And by dawn are apart in the shivering silences
We will pretend that its all just made up..

The songs that he writes
Are too personal
He cant play them for anyone

When hes all alone, the lovesong writer sings
"Ooooh-Ooooh, can anyone hear me now?"
but no one hears him now
So he stumbles through syllables,
cut from their sentences
Lost letters call to him
deep in the alphabet,
"Please give us meaning"

(and the lovesong writer replies):
"Pose for me now,
You're the broken heart
You're the cry in the back of the throat--and on the other side, you're the queen of spades, you're the sound that she makes on her way.."

Theres always a way out
Theres always a way out

the lovesong writer sings
all alone when he hears the sound
of the knock at the door

(and he stands to answer it, the lights flicker the door opens on..)

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