A man stands by a window;
He breathes like a bird.
There's a rose by the window
Sitting pretty proud and red.
Clothes lie abandoned, discarded,
Right across the bed.
Two day old papers lie on the floor;
Flaking paint sits in his hair.
He wonders why he came here;
He wonders why she's not there.
Won't you help me
To hear that sound?
We'll keep together
When word gets around.
He feels the draw and pump;
The movement of blood around his heart.
He thinks he's on a parachute,
Falling quickly through the dark.
What he wants to know is,
What do you do when the goodtimes fly?
Because the pieces don't fit together,
When a sweetheart lies.
Won't you help me
To hear that sound?
We'll keep it together
When word gets around.
He wants to let her know he's found a word,
But that word is in peril.
It's a word that keeps warm under a bird's wing -
That word is "gentle".
Won't you help me
To hear that sound?
We'll keep it together
When word gets around.