Lips like semaphore to my heart
We slither and slide and slip
Stings like aerosol in my eyes
And nothing compares to this

And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the strangers the strangers
And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the all strangers out there

Pips from oranges spat away
To gutters and drains and bins
Left like promises on a train
When you delivered yourself to him

And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the strangers the strangers
And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the all strangers out there

A paper trail on the road
That was left for the gulls
Like the birds flying north
Its been growing guns

And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the strangers the strangers
And its ever so clear
And its ever so plain
For the all strangers out there

For all the strangers
For all the strangers out there
For all the strangers
For all the strangers out there
For all the strangers
For all the strangers out there
For all the strangers
For all the strangers out there

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Brett Anderson, Neil Codling, Richard Oakes