| Song | Too Late To Exit |
| Artist | Atomic Swing |
| Album | A Car Crash In The Blue |
| When the clock beats two and night kisses the morning | |
| A dizzy farewell song keeps clawing my ears | |
| The sense of my head obeys and goes alarming | |
| But the pipers within my chest keep blowing their horns | |
| So if you're in doubt | |
| I'm not desperate by the hour | |
| You know I've tried | |
| To break this dead end of ours | |
| And pass like a dove | |
| But it's too late to exit from love | |
| It's too late to pass through I really should | |
| Well, I'm captured by a cliché | |
| But I can't find no door | |
| I always waited politely to sometimes get chosen | |
| And I've blamed my sweet little mum "I ain't no fortunate son" | |
| For so long I've chewed these words with no chance to use 'em | |
| For so long I've really thought I was the only one | |
| So if I'm not | |
| Let us share all these drunken hours | |
| And let us fly | |
| From the roof of this tower | |
| To higher above | |
| For it's too late to exit from love | |
| It's too late to pass through I really should | |
| Well, I'm captured by a cliché | |
| But I can't find no door | |
| I'ts too late little baby |
| When the clock beats two and night kisses the morning | |
| A dizzy farewell song keeps clawing my ears | |
| The sense of my head obeys and goes alarming | |
| But the pipers within my chest keep blowing their horns | |
| So if you' re in doubt | |
| I' m not desperate by the hour | |
| You know I' ve tried | |
| To break this dead end of ours | |
| And pass like a dove | |
| But it' s too late to exit from love | |
| It' s too late to pass through I really should | |
| Well, I' m captured by a cliché | |
| But I can' t find no door | |
| I always waited politely to sometimes get chosen | |
| And I' ve blamed my sweet little mum " I ain' t no fortunate son" | |
| For so long I' ve chewed these words with no chance to use ' em | |
| For so long I' ve really thought I was the only one | |
| So if I' m not | |
| Let us share all these drunken hours | |
| And let us fly | |
| From the roof of this tower | |
| To higher above | |
| For it' s too late to exit from love | |
| It' s too late to pass through I really should | |
| Well, I' m captured by a cliché | |
| But I can' t find no door | |
| I' ts too late little baby |