We could be a little colder With the cunning of our kind We can be as mediocre As the heroes of our time Imagine your supply of love depends on your demand Funny how the look of love depends on where you stand HOLD ME CLOSER CLOSER THAN A CLOSEST FRIEND HOLD ME CLOSER DISREGARD THE VIOLINS HOLD ME CLOSER CLOSER THAN AN AUGUST NIGHT CLOSER THAN CLOSE IN A FIGHT THAT ONLY TWO CAN WIN We could be a little better Or we might get a little worse We could write ourselves a letter About the choice that we prefer Funny how reality depends on how you feel Or maybe our emotions tend to lean on what is real It could be our salvation Or maybe it's our curse The chronic resurrection Of the crimes we want to purge Either way there ain't no point in digging up them bones We've got the night all to ourselves and nights don't last too long