i don't want nothin from you, i just want to be your friend, but
my conversation's clumsy and you got no time to spend.  i can't
call it a finale, but i do guess this is the end.  i was hurt there
for a heartbeat, but now there's nothing much to mend.  if i
don't see you in the alley or meet your down the bend, it's just
nice to know you're out there, in a world that's yours to invent.
the world is yours.  the world is yours.  the world is yours.  i don't
need you in my slippers, i don't need you in my songs.  i don't
need your voice wrapped in whispers, pushed against my
tongue.  i don't need you in my kitchen, with your belt loop
around my thumb, i just want to be counted among the lucky
ones who love you, cause i'm afraid i already do, and now i fear i
need an excuse.  i fear i need an excuse.  but i'm never against
you, i'm never against you, i'm never against you.  London is a
page i'm turning, and i sit here by myself, someday i'll be
returning this old book back to the shelf, and leaving it there
for someone else.  cause i don't want to sing about love, and i
don't want to think about death, but take a look at me now,
here i go again.  don't look at me now, don't look at me now,
don't look at me, look at me, look at me, look at me now.