| Emma's come down. | |
| She's stopped the light | |
| Shining out of her eyes. | |
| Emma's been run out on. | |
| She's breaking down | |
| In so many places, | |
| Stuck in low gears | |
| Because of her fears | |
| Of the skidding wheels, | |
| (The skid of her wheels she feels.) | |
| Skidding wheels, | |
| (The skid of her wheels she feels.) | |
| Spinning wheels. | |
| (Wheel-skidding feeling.) | |
| Her heart is there, | |
| But they've greased the road. | |
| Her heart is out there, | |
| But she's no control. | |
| Oh, come on, you've got to use your flow. | |
| You know what it's like, and you know you want to go. | |
| Don't drive too slowly. | |
| Don't put your blues where your shoes should be. | |
| Don't put your foot on the heartbrake. | |
| (She's losing, she's losing, she's losing, she's losing...) | |
| She's losing that inner flame. | |
| It was burning bright, | |
| But she's losing the light fast. | |
| She's only herself to blame. | |
| Well, take care of yourself, | |
| And remember Georgie. | |
| She's so O.D.'d on weeping | |
| She can hardly see | |
| That she's dropping beads. | |
| (Red, red glass is bleeding.) | |
| Dropping beads. | |
| (Red, red glass is bleeding.) | |
| Dropping beads. | |
| (Red, red on the parquet.) | |
| Her heart is there, | |
| But they've greased the road. | |
| Her heart is out there, | |
| But she's no control. | |
| Oh, come on, you've got to use your flow. | |
| You know what it's like, and you know you want to go. | |
| Don't drive too slowly. | |
| Don't put your blues where your shoes should be. | |
| Don't put your foot on the heartbrake. | |
| Oh, come on, you've got to use your flow. | |
| You know what it's like, and you know you want to go. | |
| Don't drive too slowly. | |
| Don't put your blues where your shoes should be. | |
| Don't put your foot on the heartbrake. |
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