Lying in bed Looking at maps With no place to go. And the telephone book Is the loneliest thing That I’ve ever read. Close the door Turn out the lights Under the sheets Still wanting more The feeling is fading ‘cos I’m masquerading as someone who loves you. The radio’s on With nothing but silence And breathing in time. And the telephone’s ringing With the loneliest sound That I’ve ever heard. Close your eyes Turn off your mind Under the sheets Not technically lies. The darkness is fading And I’m recreating How we ended up here.