My silly friends maintain
Low profiles with high disdain.
I think I'll try once more to make friends
With the ones that live at my door
And come stealing in, with their innocent grin;
And leave me staring
At the empy ceiling,
Feeling absolutely nothing,
Looking on, looking on;
What kind of moral change,
What is this subtle frame?
By the warm and blissful, you
Might enact your trust again
For that beautiful thing
That once made my poor heart sing.
It's never going to leave me,
To leave me now.
Just looking, just looking;
Just looking, just looking, just looking on.
Looking on, looking on, looking on;
Looking on, looking on, looking on.
What kind of mire we'll find?
Such a strange and empty sign.
Draw the finest line
Between loving and being too cruel to be kind,
To let love come stealing in
With an innocent grin.
Leave you staring with your empty ceiling,
Just looking on, looking on, looking on,
Just looking; looking, looking!
What kind of love is this?
Concealed behind your kiss.
What kind of love we're trying.
Behind the silent quiet to come
Stealing in, with an innocent grin,
To leave you staring
At the empty ceiling, feeling nothing.
Just look: just looking on.
I'm just looking,
Just looking on.