New York
To that tall skyline I come
Flyin' in from London
The last train is nearly due,
The underground is closing soon,
And
I bruise you, you bruise me
We both bruise too easily
Too
April, come she will
When streams are ripe and swell with
When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I'll dry
Is it a kind of dream,
Floating out on the tide,
Following
I'll never let you see
The way my broken heart is
Hello, darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you