All over the world

the time is the same the time

when we are changing

New ways to find

old ones to blame

just save a smoke for the morning

I could cry, cry for the Savior

for I hope every evening t

hat my flame sleeps away

and the whole wide world

is an ashtray for me in the morning

As perfect strangers

I wear down the world

meeting bad angels

down on the earth

Under the sky the scene is the same

we sin and then comes the praying

Wounded girls wounded games

they try to keep on playing

I had a tale and I had a partner

but now they're gone with the night train

There must be a wind up or down under

that shows me the right way

As perfect strangers

I wear down the world

meeting bad angels

down on the earth

Fellows, it seems I'm losing the flame

and running out of dreams

with the morning traïn