It’s A Matter Of Priorities

The boats on the water,
Light up like a lava-lamp,
We kneel at the edge of the river,
And smile for the photograph,

And the swans don’t care,
They just float around,
Waiting for the wind to change course,
And at night time when the sun goes down,
The trees will fall asleep,
They’ll fall asleep,

But I’ll be awake,
Waiting for the sleep to come,
Waiting for you to come back home,
’Cuz this city, even when it’s fast asleep,
Is the prettiest I’ve ever known,

But Judging from your tone,
You’ll be out of here,
Before I can say “I love…”
And from the look on your face,
You hate this place,
So I’ll just say goodbye again,

Was that your face among the crowd?
I can’t quite tell,
Was that your face among the crowd?
I can’t quite tell,

Where did you go to,
When you said you had to go?
Who did you run to,
When I didn’t say “Hello”?
Where did you fly to,
When you said you wouldn’t fly?
Where did you run to?
Oh, you know I don’t mean to pry,

But you’ve got to admit,
That your actions,
Were unusual – even for you,
(And you’ve got to admit)
You were subtle enough,
Even though I saw right through,
(And you’ve got to admit)
That you ended this,
Before it even began,
(And you’ve got to admit)
That communication is more important than
Those nights we spent,

When the boats on the water,
Lit up like lava lamps,
And we sat by the river,
And held each other’s hand,

Was that your face among the crowd?
I can’t quite tell,
Was that your face among the crowd?
I can’t quite tell…