The Style Council

The Paris Match

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Empty hours
Spent combing the street
In daytime showers
They've become my beat
As I walk from cafe to bar
I wish I knew where you are
Because you've clouded my mind
And now I'm all out of time
Empty skies say try to forget
Better advice is to have no regrets
As I tread the boulevard floor
Will I see once more
Because you've clouded my mind
'Till then I'm biding my time

I'm only sad in a natural way
And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way
The gift you gave is desire
The match that started my fire

Empty nights with nothing to do
I sit and think, every thought is for you
I get so restless and bored
So I go out once more
I hate to feel so confined
I feel like I'm wasting my time


Autor(es): Paul Weller

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