All The Hits

And all the hits you take that play havoc with your heart

They were not sent here to test you

You'd be crazy to think that, darling

You'd be crazy to think that

But if you must think of them as something with a point

Think of them as your greatest hits, they are yours to wear like armour

This is a better time without the ridiculous rush

Of a hundred dance routines that simply leave you exhausted

Instead there'll be quiet music

And everything will be OK

Everything will be OK

Just not in the way you expected