'Grandmother dies, with a cup of dusty water by her bedside, My sweetheart rides her bicycle too fast, with shut eyes.
And please don't say you love me if you don't truly mean it, Cause words they lose their meaning when you use them too much,
I spent my week waiting for the Friday evening, when you come round and see me, And we drink wine from cups.
When the embrace of the family it smothers far too much, I am here for when you're feeling useless.
And all those curls that once hung around you face well they now fall to your feet,
And those arms that once cradled fools and thieves, they now hold me when I'm weak,
What do you know of your strength, what do you know of your warmth,
What do you know of your back, your legs, your lips, your eyes,
Oh your eyes,Your pretty eyes,
What do you know of the strength within your eyes.
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