| Song | Cafe Society |
| Artist | Al Stewart |
| Album | Russians And Americans |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Late at night | |
| When reality's failing and nothing is prevailing but the wind, | |
| I come to you | |
| Out of sight | |
| Like a fugitive trailing across a barren land, you let me in, you always do. | |
| My reason is caught by a sudden gust of lateral thought that sweeps me far beyond | |
| It's the opium of the night | |
| And the ocean of words that we throw in the air grow more absurd and nobody seems to care | |
| It's a refugee's respite. | |
| Café Society. | |
| Late at night (late at night) | |
| While the city lies sleeping and solitude is keeping me awake, | |
| I think of you | |
| Dim your lights (dim your lights) | |
| Oh, I want to sink deep in that river of oblivion you make, | |
| I need it too. | |
| Let me check-in my mind with my coat at the door ‘cause | |
| I want to go flying where | |
| I've never been before | |
| Some inviting dark ravine | |
| If the hand that you hold in the dead of the night is a little too cold, the body seems just right | |
| It's a Toulouse | |
| Lautrec scene. | |
| Café Society. (‘Excuse me, sir, are you a member?') |
| Late at night | |
| When reality' s failing and nothing is prevailing but the wind, | |
| I come to you | |
| Out of sight | |
| Like a fugitive trailing across a barren land, you let me in, you always do. | |
| My reason is caught by a sudden gust of lateral thought that sweeps me far beyond | |
| It' s the opium of the night | |
| And the ocean of words that we throw in the air grow more absurd and nobody seems to care | |
| It' s a refugee' s respite. | |
| Caf Society. | |
| Late at night late at night | |
| While the city lies sleeping and solitude is keeping me awake, | |
| I think of you | |
| Dim your lights dim your lights | |
| Oh, I want to sink deep in that river of oblivion you make, | |
| I need it too. | |
| Let me checkin my mind with my coat at the door cause | |
| I want to go flying where | |
| I' ve never been before | |
| Some inviting dark ravine | |
| If the hand that you hold in the dead of the night is a little too cold, the body seems just right | |
| It' s a Toulouse | |
| Lautrec scene. | |
| Caf Society. Excuse me, sir, are you a member?' |
| Late at night | |
| When reality' s failing and nothing is prevailing but the wind, | |
| I come to you | |
| Out of sight | |
| Like a fugitive trailing across a barren land, you let me in, you always do. | |
| My reason is caught by a sudden gust of lateral thought that sweeps me far beyond | |
| It' s the opium of the night | |
| And the ocean of words that we throw in the air grow more absurd and nobody seems to care | |
| It' s a refugee' s respite. | |
| Caf Society. | |
| Late at night late at night | |
| While the city lies sleeping and solitude is keeping me awake, | |
| I think of you | |
| Dim your lights dim your lights | |
| Oh, I want to sink deep in that river of oblivion you make, | |
| I need it too. | |
| Let me checkin my mind with my coat at the door cause | |
| I want to go flying where | |
| I' ve never been before | |
| Some inviting dark ravine | |
| If the hand that you hold in the dead of the night is a little too cold, the body seems just right | |
| It' s a Toulouse | |
| Lautrec scene. | |
| Caf Society. Excuse me, sir, are you a member?' |