We live in the lightnthe constant lightna family of eyesnTalking about common sensencoming thru the bedroom windownshining across the ceilingnYou can't sleep in a nationnof imaginationnnYou can tell by the way I talknI've got hard feelingsnnTow mirrors in the middle of the worldnPassers by making modern lovenSome sensations are better than othersnSome people's love isn't strong enoughnnBut we've got hard feelingsnnWe walk with a common desirenThe fantasy is a way of dealingnWe've been told pleasure killsnWe don't get nervousnYou can tellnYou can tell by the way we walknnWe've got hard feelingsn