Brb
HENRY TYDEMAN, JOHN TYDEMAN
My love, since when,
Moved on, so now I pretend,
Does anybody know yer name?
Hand inside a glove, spitting image of you,
Baby it’s true,
Automated and factory demand too,
What should I do?
And as I look long and hard in the mirror,
The mirror hung on the wall,
It doesn’t feel like there’s anyone left,
And I see nothing at all
My love, it seems,
Is like a hologram that plays on repeat,
Coz I fell for this torment,
And it’s not like real life when we try to pretend,
Does anybody know yer name?
Hand inside a glove, spitting image of you,
Baby it’s true,
Automated and factory demand too,
What should I do?
And as I sail by myself down the river,
Collecting memories before,
The river runs to the edge of the sea,
I know I’ll never be sure