I don't think anything
I have to tell you
I don't say anything
You have to recognise
My world's so different because of what I read
And Ophelia is a perfect lover
Marching, hand in hand
To the river to drown

Paint pictures of me in candlelight
I don't want you to see me smile
Because dignity is worth more to me
Than gold

It's so awfully cold
On a station
Waiting for the train
At half eleven on a Monday night
Soldiers on the platform opposite
Spit and brawl
And laugh
But everything is dark
So I feel fine

Don't believe a thing you hear about me
Contrary to popular opinion
I am not moved by popular opinion
Reactions do not make me think
Even though they should
I am a law unto myself in the most unromantic
And inconvenient way