Hanging round the romance section only
For hours
It seems we found a different route to hell
For us

Not to become the morons that we deal with
All day
We made a pact to stay true to ourselves
But panicked

We've got no grip
Got no clue
Got no golden ticket

Floating round this clutter
Like we've lost all gravity
Just hoping for some crutch
And some depravity

Come on, Phil, who wants an easy lover?
For real
We need someone to shove us through this mess
We made

Now meet your fate
Meet your phantom
Meet your true reflection

Floating round this clutter
Like we've lost all gravity
Just hoping for some crutch
And some depravity

No one set out
To make the Hall of Fame of Love
Someone to bear with me
Is all I'm dreaming of

With all this baggage
With remorse
But with my arms around you