Well, Tommy woke that morning The story they'd been faking And fallen through the brush of fingertips And though they packed their bags, The curtains and the bedroom door They've been running away for years So Tommy rubs his stubble As if to check his face is there And Sylvia combs her hair Just like nothing really happened They'll carry on as before... But this thing won't work, will it, any more. And though the bags are packed The curtains and the bedroom door There's nowhere left to hide... They've been running for years To find some kind of thrill To take away the emptiness That they both feel inside. Out of the matter of fact; But now the frame's all cracked. There's nothing left to try They've been running for years To find some kind of life That offers an excitement That the rest of us pass by. So Tommy woke that morning This story they'd been faking And falling through the brush of fingertips And though the bags are packed The curtains and the bedroom door There's nowhere left to go They've been running away so long There's just no strength to carry on They can't get back to what they knew A life abandoned once and long ago. David Lord - Keyboards, Orchestral Arrangement;