I made my way to New York citynTo draw the routes of my self pitynIt's like I'm in my favourite filmnIt's just a minor part but stillnnIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's not quite realnnI pay the guy who can't work outnWhat to tell the girl and hownAnd in the end and turn and saynOf how I wish there was another waynnI wish I'd never comenI wish I'd not becomenAnother love-sick kid or broken ...nnI run the cliches through for realnI'll hold you in my arms untilnI have to leave for my BexhillnTo document the way I feelnnIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's ...nIt's like it's not quite realnnAnd though it was some time agonIt's only fair that I should let you knownThat burst my heart and break the linesnBut I'm a man who tends to run and hidennI wish I'd never comenI wish I'd not becomenAnother love-sick kid or broken ...