Sure was a hell of a mistake i made,
But i sure am glad i made it,
No way for a grown man to behave,
More the act of a teen oportunist,
I stand accused of losing my head.
We sit so high on the city walls,
Our tears wash clean the cobblestones,
It's not so much that the thrill is gone,
Just a cleaner, sweeter,
brighter thrill has come along.
I can sense trouble just around the bend,
and it's been of my kind of making,
i can't carry on with all this pretence,
when it's clear that ny love has been fading,
I stand accused of the things i said.
Chorus