The End of the World didn't sleep here,
it came, but didn't feel like staying.
Ovations went to sleep
and hosts are calling their taxis.
Journalists are trying to broadcast,
they're looking for eye witnesses.
The band confessed
there's a big dance hall, but no one is dancing.
They left, there's is no one left;
neither the sheriff, nor the mayor.
They left, there's no one left.
And the orchestra didn't get paid.
Things don't fit at all.
Daylight is a hostile line
that comes into pensions asking for you.
You took the answer
and I was left with the question.
They left, there's is no one left;
neither the sheriff, nor the mayor.
Only vacancies
and unpaid doll collars were left.
Things don't fit at all.
Music, music, music somewhere else
I have the feeling
I'm dancing claquet on your wire.
They left, there's is no one left;
neither the sheriff, nor the mayor.
They left, there's no one left.
And the orchestra didn't get paid.
Everything fits.
Everything fits.