i'm giving up the ghost
to you whom i have held the most
in my regard
with eyes set fixed upon foreign coasts
a mind betwixt 'tween idle boasts
of some reward
i have heard the call
we were lovers on the prowl
now nothing really matters much
nothing really mattered anyhow

i'm reaching for another glimpse
a wanton touch a final swing
from the dark
i'm torn between east and west
which you bring down with zealous jest
in one remark
and whatever you can bring yourself
to say three times is true
you want blood and i ain't got
a single drop that i can give to you

oh i know i was the talk of the town
when i cried 'cut me down'
i don't know, i've been told
love is quiet, love is pure

when a tired hand looks up
and finds companionship
shaken with surprise
and a tired mind resides
for fear of getting caught
in travel in disguise
there is nothing left to say
i will soon be on my way
i'm sorry for the things i've done
i'm sorry for the things i have not done

oh i know i was the talk of the town
when i cried 'cut me down'
i don't know, i've been told
love is quiet, love is pure