I found out how to keep you keen, I read it in a magazine.
One of those expensive ones, so it must be true, it must be true.
Seems large amounts of alcohol is all it takes to make you fall.
If I stroke your ego through the night, it'll be all right, it'll be all right.

If this is desire, expect nothing new.
But if this is love, burn your black suit.

I worry now I'm close to you, for your face is grey, your lips are blue.
And you spend your days in no man's land, make me take my pleaseure where I can.
You trail behind me like a broken kite but it's far too late to put things right.
And I find that looking back at you gives a better view, a better view.

If this is desire, expect nothing new,
But if this is love - burn your black suit.

Call yourself a dark angel born to make it good.
A dark angel from the heavens to the dole queue.
If this is desire we're expecting nothing new.
But when this is finally love we can burn our black suit.
I wish that I had brought you joy, it's hurting me to see you cry,
But I don't feel enough for you to see it through, to see it through.

If this is desire, expect nothing new,
But if this is love - burn your black suit.