A saxophone plays on the radio
Smokey notes echo these feelings
Is this your happy face?
Is this your sad face?
It's hard to tell
The magazine lies open on the floor
Your heart is a closed book
Give me Carte Blanche
To turn those pages
They're not as heavy as they seem
Now we're alone
The poolside is deserted
Four o'clock shadows have repaired to lonely rooms
The dumb waiters sing songs from the loveless hotel
It doesn't have to be that way
Pay the piper and cull the tune
Light shimmers on the surface of a pale blue pool
Paper moon cut into pieces
And scattered here
I set these boats to sail
They float to your side
They are made from pages torn from my soul
Please except these gifts
For tomorrow we part
Tomorrow we part
Tomorrow we part
Tomorrow we part
