You never get your hands covered in dirt 
You never get your heart covered in hurt
Lean your cheep upon your hands - I'll be your glove
I try to dress you up with my love 
You walk right through my walls
You walk right through my walls
The ghost of a thousand little lies 
Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes 
The ghost of a thousand little lies 
Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes 
Take me to England cause I'm going slightly mad 
(nobody will notice I'm mad in England) 
You never get your hands covered in love 
Lean your cheek upon your hand - I'll be your glove