He's on the phone, doesn't want to go home  The hotel life (forget your wife), you're on your own Academia girl  Her life's a gas, she loves the trash inside his world  Can't fide his way there, got the cash, feeling flash, in Leicester Square  Ooh-ooh, yes   She never meant to call, she did anyway  And now he's trying to find the world to say someday  It's five to twelve and she's nervous as hell with nothing to lose, it's hard to choose, it's hard to tell  And her's is lilac and gold   The thing she has, she's feeling sad, she's feeling old  Skin is dewdrop and warm, the lipstic kiss, reminisce, or wait will dawn   Et c'est alors que supposément blessé par le commun des mortels,   qu'en habit pourpre et net, de mes cendres fiction,   pour l'encore inconnu, attendu,  je résérecte encore et encore, pour toi, je résérecte encore et encore.   He's on the phone and she wants to go home,  shoes in hand, don't make a sound, it's time to go.