The Paris Match - The Style Council, Tracey Thorn

Empty hours

Spent combing the street

In daytime showers

Theyve become my beat;

As I walk from cafe to bar

I wish I knew where you are;

Because youve clouded my mind

And now Im all out of time

Empty skies say try to forget

Better advice is to have no regrets;

As I tread the boulevard floor

Will I see once more;

Because youve clouded my mind

till then Im biding my time

Im only sad in a natural way

And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way

The gift you gave is desire

The match that started my fire

Empty nights with nothing to do

I sit and think, every thought is for you;

I get so restless and bored

So I go out once more;

I hate to feel so confined

I feel like Im wasting my time