So I guess this is where they've
Come to film these commericals
About paradise.
(None of us knew you.)
Where you should want your,
Where you should need your wants to suffice.
None of us could be there.
Swinging a heartache and a headrush.
I keep hearing those same lightning words.
So this is the sort of thing
That never really makes it in the papers.
(None of us knew you.)
So no one will ever know,
None of us could know how you died here.