Stuff comes down from the golden triangle on ferries from denmark to helsingborg The band strikes up but they're out of time on synthesiser and washboard Wooden tulips grow by the roadside made in a factory in jonjoping Fake glass baubles hang in the station just like the passenger's imitation Then it hits you she was just the dregs all you wanna do now is break her legs Kick that brunette into a pond replace her with a
There's a secret world that you cannot enter it's in the center of the darkest night
She's waiting there with a set of works a swedish passport and something white She walks past but you can't form a whistle even her lips look artificial You wanna follow her but you can't swallow her act it seems so superficial Now you've shed the old one like a worn out shoe It was all your fault but you blame her too You know it's phoney but at least it's new and it comes from a bottle like
Chorus
And in your heart there's a new addiction another friction that you can't resolve She seemed alive but she is just a cipher an imaginary postcard that just dissolved Endless sunsets glow in the distance painted by picasso's assistants Perfect people travel in volvos into the sunsets into the distance You're just a passenger she's not a ticket a foreign stamp you've got to lick it Put it in the mail box put it in the failbox You never seem to learn from the school of hard knocks Then she walks past and laughs at the pond You can't break a heart that doesn't respond, like
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