More of the Same

the neighbourhoods sleeping
they’ve all gone to their beds
with their lovers and children
sweet thoughts in their heads

just ghosts in my doorway
they stretch to the end of my lane
the past in my present
means more of the same

CHORUS:

there’s been a shortage of white knights
to come rescue me
so I wait for the morning
I just wait and see

I know I’m a sinner
cause I’ve seen the pain
caused heartache and teardrops
thinking I’d win the game

looking out at the bright stars
I feel the chill autumn air
wishing I was miles away
from here

CHORUS