Last Rites

When you’re feeling restless and broken-hearted

And you can’t spare the time for me –

When the lights go down in a broken downtown

And your head plays dead symphonies

You say your bicycle tyres are flat and your heart’s in a mess –

That’s forty miles of bad road for me

Will you come spend Christmas in Copenhagen?

Comets fly, come escape with me

You say your bicycle tyres are flat and your heart’s in a mess

And you walk through the streets in a dream –

Watch the sunlight dance off a broken zoom lens

And you talk in your sleep to me

So you feel so sickly and broken-hearted

And you don’t ever mind for me –

If we don’t spend Christmas in Copenhagen

Would you at least say last rites for me?