the style council
the paris match
Empty hours  Spent combing the street  In daytime showers  They've become my beat;  As I walk from cafe to bar  I wish I knew where you are;  Because you've clouded my mind  And now I'm all out of time  Empty skies say try to forget  Better advice is to have no regrets;  As I tread the boulevard floor  Will I see once more;  Because you've clouded my mind  'Till then I'm biding my time    I'm only sad in a natural way  And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way  The gift you gave is desire  The match that started my fire    Empty nights with nothing to do  I sit and think, every thought is for you;  I get so restless and bored  So I go out once more;  I hate to feel so confined  I feel like I'm wasting my time