Born in the city, the blue and the grey
It makes me feel like a kid again to wander in this way
So I picture myself as a baby at 35 years old
In a basket on your doorstep starving and cold
But when I’m old and withered what will they say?
«He was kind gentle and funny but he played it safe»
For one night, the procession of us in the limelight
It’s not right
Lighting up fires without torch songs
It’s not right
The matchmaker makes up the matches
The matches give us our flames
Going to peoples' parties the court and spark is the same
The icebreaker makes conversation
The icemaker freezes our drinks
The dance floor shakes our assets and our expectations sink
For one night, the procession of us in the limelight
It’s not right
Lighting up fires without torch songs
It’s not right