歌词
Why don't we stop foolin' ourselves?
The game is over, over, over
No good times, no bad times
There's no times at all
Just The New York Times
Sittin' on the windowsill
Near the flowers
We might as well be apart
It hardly matters, we sleep separately
And drop a smile passin' in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all
And we laughed them all
In a very short time
Time is tapping on my forehead
Hangin' from my mirror
Rattlin' the teacups
And I wonder-
How long can I delay?
We're just a habit, like saccharin
And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue
But each time I try on the thought of leavin' you
I stop
I stop and think it over
