The Cynic

So pull me out of this dream

Turn off the television

Put on a romantic vinyl

And come to bed again

Please be my next morning flower

But don't be here all the time

Leave me a couple of hours

Then bring me food and wine

Play with me, play with me

Don't tell me how it feels

Don't let it be for real

Don't tell me how you feel

I'll make this week disappear

Like I've erased several months

It's turning into a year now

And I'm still a mannequin

You're so poetic when you're sad

So tiring when you cry

We could fly out and get married

I think I love you now

Play with me, play with me

Don't tell me how it feels

Don't  let it be for real

Don't tell me how you feel

Play with me, play with me

Don't tell me how it feels

Don't let it be for real

Don't tell me how you feel