Wrong drink to order.

Suspicion grows,

wrong situation...



Oh, no-one knows where you've gone to

in the pagan night

and the neon reflections

spread cadmium white.

You came here looking for something

but this wasn't it, quite.

Hey, take a Polaroid, exit,

and well you might.



Sign the picture, get out of the frame;

sign the picture, and throw it away.

Sign the picture, sign the picture,

throw the picture away.



Now she turns her attention

and her camera on you:

this could be all of the moments

that you'll ever live through,

oh, but your heart beats the rythm

of primeval tattoo...

I hear you make your excuses

as you usually do.



Sign the picture, get out of the frame;

sign the picture, and throw it away;

Sign the picture, sign the picture,

throw the picture away...

... although it's going to come back.



You've got a certain knack

of making of such things

auspicious signs