ThE sKy HaS lOsT iT's CoLoUr,
ThE sUn HaS tUrNeD gReY,
at LeAsT tHaT's HoW iT fEeLs To Me,
WhEnEvER uR aWaY

The night was dark
The moon was high
He stopped the car
I wonder why
He moved in close
My heart went pat
Then he sorftly whispered,
"Tyres flat"

You were holding me; like someone broken