No psychic warning
You would leave me in mourning
From childish seductions
With familiar conclusions
High on the pavement
Then so low in the airport
No text book on therapy
Will stop me admitting defeat
If my english were better
could I've curved this disaster
I don't know
The sweetest of flowers
On the crudest of altars
I confide in a picture
as I'm breaking my promise
That if I just hold it together
I can curve this disaster
I don't know
I don't know
If I'd just found the humor
Could I've curved this disaster
Well I don't think so
I don't think so
Make it beautiful now
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