And it's hard to write about being happy

Cause all that I get

I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject.

There will be no grand choirs to sing

No chorus could come in

About two people sitting doing nothing

But I must confess

I did it all for myself

I gathered you here

To hide from some vast unnameable fear.

But the loneliness never left me

I always took it with me

But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

And there will be no grand choirs to sing

No chorus will come in

No ballad will be written

It will be entirely forgotten

And if tomorrow it's all over

At least we had it for a moment

Oh darling things seem so unstable

But for a moment we were able to be still.

Oh oh oh...

And there will be no grand choirs to sing

No chorus will come in

No ballad will be written

This will be entirely forgotten.