The party's over for the night
And in your memoirs you will write
I had high ideals
I'm sinking on high heels
In a lonely place I find hard to face
Objects of belief and love's indulgent grief
I'm afraid of you
Afraid of what you make me do
So quiet suburban streets
To someone else's sheets
Objects of belief and love's indulgent grief
To a lonely place I find hard to face
The sugar on the pill, that's all you taste
The sugar on the pill, that's all you want