Angels - Marc and the Mambas

The car drives on through suburbia ever after

This is the last game of all

After this is a down

Down slide and I think I may disappear

Here is where reality ends

And the rest takes over

And it’s taking over here

Running wild in the sulky midnight air

Scorpio rising houses

And the fantasy’s bigger and better

I never liked a fantasy

And the message goes

Love me or else

Because I may die tomorrow

And that would prey on your mind forever

The zombie bars

The big black cars

And they’re playing the part of disposable stars

Oh, the sun is burning my shoulder

And the city streches away on a plane

And wow, I’m feeling like God again

The sulky smoke in a Greek café

The taste of the Turkish tea

Avoiding eyes and telling lies

And the things that make me happy

There is always the jest and the dancing

And the black, black heat

And a stubble breaking through the TV make-up

The Orange industrial strength

It’s starting by now to look a little tainted

Oh, the west side the other world

Where the wind hisses through the meat hooks

And they are playing with danger

Like running uptown, come nightmare

Tell them to look for another game

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

And the last look you gave me was cold

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

It was the silence on the phone

And the last look you gave me was cold

And the last look you gave me was cold

And the last look you gave me was cold

You bastard, the last look you gave me was cold

You said you bastard, the last look you gave me was cold

You said you bastard, the last look you gave me was cold

This is the last game of all

This is the last game of all

It was cold