The Walk
Annie Lennox, David Allan Stewart
I could be contended
I don't need to suffer
You're beautiful
Good to talk to
You make an impression
To take my attention
And when you touch my skin
I smell disaster
Step away, walk away
All I want is the real thing
(nothing but the real thing)
Walking on pavements
We collect in bars
Asleep in the houses
So alone,
Looking inside herself
She breaks the glass
Turns her head backwards
She's fallen down again