Chorus:
You drowned me in,
You lead me astray.

And all these metaphors that I show you can only tell you
That I don�t care.
And all that I want to be is someone who is there.
For all the inequity and banishment and exile,
And all that I wanted was to stand there with you all the while.
Now the bell tower has rung and I feel cold,
And my skin grows pale and my bones grow old,
For it�s the final minute, the final hour,
And all that I can think about is what�s to come.

When you came over to my house,
And returned all my things which I had given to you.
And I don�t understand why you would e-mail me,
Because black olives aren�t my cup of tea.

Now and then I start to get thinking about what we had,
But you said I had given up a long time ago.
But that wasn�t right and I don�t want to fight no more,
Because black olives I don�t like,
I�m going to shove you out the door.

Halting, he looked at the seat with greater care. Yes, it wasn�t vacant.
Mr. Hackett saw things a little more clear. His walk was little bit more
wabbly for his seat was not there.

Mr. Hackett was left standing there. But that�s ok. Because when you hear
music you�ve got to move your feet, cause dancing can�t be beat.