We could be a little colder
With the cunning of our kind
We can be as mediocre
As the heros 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