Yes I know
The things we say
Between the sheets
That they are
Only meant
To keep the heat
Through the night
And that you hate
To get them quoted
And I can´t
Be such a fool
To imaging something else
All good things
Must come to an end
I don´t like
To be thrown away
Like an old
Dish-cloth
I´m hardly ever used
Just one night
But I should
Get a more realistic
View on things
Cos wishful thinking´s
Leading me astray