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• Artiste: Style Council (The)
• Titre: The Paris Match
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Empty hours Spent combing the street In daytime showers They've become my beat; As I walk from cafe to bar I wish I knew where you are; Because you've clouded my mind And now I'm all out of time Empty skies say try to forget Better advice is to have no regrets; As I tread the boulevard floor Will I see once more; Because you've clouded my mind 'Till then I'm biding my time I'm only sad in a natural way And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way The gift you gave is desire The match that started my fire Empty nights with nothing to do I sit and think, every thought is for you; I get so restless and bored So I go out once more; I hate to feel so confined I feel like I'm wasting my time