Independent Love

Won’t you come, come back to earth?

Everyone’s concerned  

Saying that “I’m worried for you.”

I can't bear their words.

I’ll leave them unheard,

I know, you know

I wish I wasn’t dreaming of you.

Now there’s your man, Fernand.

He’s all soaked in schmooze,

A Mondego and unsightly muse…

So sickly, so ghastly

It cuts my heart in two.

Oh, and the music plays,

Storms us in a foray,

And says,

Give me your hand out the Blue?

Oh, then the music searches, for days.

And says…

Don’t serve the sorrow.

Don’t save that whisky…

For tomorrow.

Don’t pour salt into your tea.

Don’t crowd follow,

Climb aboard,

Sail the sea!

You're lost in island Purgatory.

My Darling,

You don’t have to go, into what you think you already know,

You're more than Cafe's and Bordeaux...

Oh-oh, 

Imagine we’d had the chance to flow,

Into waters beau.

Won’t you come out, come out your hearse?

I know they’ll all say “don’t,”

“Get your suit on and go to work.”

But I’ll put right that hurt.

Your colour ought not to be burnt.

You’d say, then I’d say.

“Black never really suited you.”

Won’t you come, come back to earth?

There’s only love, in my words.

Please don’t leave me unheard…

Don't think the worst.

I always thought there would be a day,

When I’d hear you say,

Give me your hand out the Blue?