My secret life's not secret anymore I'm a victim, a lens fatale
A telephoto shot through the heart from a tree
It shows us kissing in the shade, a situation - vicarious
I hear the sound of money ringing in my ears
But not for me you understand
Not for me

I will not follow you - I probably will -  I will not follow you

Things must have sunk to an incredible low
When the only thing you read is what you already know
And next time round I want to be
Forever on the cover of a weekly magazine

Seems like there's nothing else we need to know
Everything is perfectly clear
A mixed up metaphor, a denominator in the land of make-believe
A foolproof holiday in the Greek isles, a dangerous liason
I cannot wander, I cannot roam anywhere, anywhere

I will not follow you - I probably will - I will not follow you

Things must have sunk to an incredible low
when the only thing you read is what you already know
And next time round I want to be
Forever on the cover of a weekly magazine

I hear the sound of ringing in my ears
But not for me you understand

Things must have sunk to an incredible low
When the only thing you read is what you already know
And next time round I want to be
Forever on the cover of a weekly magazine