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Mook
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Stranger Than Paradise
surrounded by scholars of a friendly nation
regrets and cigarettes smoked at the train station
thoughts are passed around in commemoration
of friends we will lose to war
dreams will speak just once more
drink to all your sorrows from a rule bound trance
i grin wide eyed without taking a glance
the books you throw aside
i take them in advance
to make my mind not feel alone
always waiting for tomorrow
when i'm not home
yes isnt it nice
(yes isnt it)
yes isnt it nice
(yes isnt it)
yes isnt it nice
(to be lost)
to be lost in paradise
live in the foothills of a high class taste
while i'm bare and content
though not quite chaste
days you spent in hiding
don't think they go to waste
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as they build up to shout out
while the city streets call out for it all
yes isnt it nice
(yes isnt it)
yes isnt it nice
(yes isnt it)
yes isnt it nice
(to be lost)
in paradise
(yes isnt it)
(yes isnt it)
yes isnt - oh shit
(yes isnt it)
to be lost in paradise
i got nothing to lose
i got no pride
no shame
my evening dances
that will go unnamed
nothing to lose
nothing to lose
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