| You can call me a madman, but I'm spoken for | |
| You can take my positions, leaves me an open door | |
| And the city has a way to make you forget | |
| About half the stuff you love and things you don't know yet | |
| About the space that's left when nobody talks | |
| About the quiet on the path where nobody walks | |
| When the road takes me to the other side of the world | |
| Little woman, she replace me, give my body back to the buzz | |
| You can call me a madman, but I'm spoken for | |
| Should I blame my profession or should I bless the war | |
| And the city has a way to make you forget | |
| About half the stuff you love and things you don't know yet | |
| About the space that's left when nobody talks | |
| About the quiet on the path where nobody walks | |
| When the road takes me to the other side of the world | |
| Tell the undersides to break me, I will put my hand on the word |
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