From the recording The Outsider
Lyrics
The words she says are like a spray
Of pure sweetness and happiness
The game she plays would make me stay
I need her heat, I need her skin
She’s hot as hell, don’t even know her name
And we danced all thru the night
Losing myself in the green of her eyes
I need her heat, I need her skin
But in the morning
There’ll be nothing but an empty bed
The last hint of a French perfume
Scattered clothes and crumpled sheets
And in the morning
There’ll be no one but a lonely man
Chasing ghosts, crying in vain
She left a note on the nightstand
That I still don’t understand
You can dream of me I was just a trick
But in any case nothing but a treat
But in the morning
There’ll be nothing but an empty bed
The last hint of a French perfume
Scattered clothes and crumpled sheets
And in the morning
There’ll be no one but a lonely man
But in the morning
There’ll be nothing but an empty bed
And in the morning
There’ll be no one but a lonely man
But in the morning
There’ll be nothing but an empty bed
And in the morning
There’ll be no one but a lonely man
Chasing ghosts, crying in vain