Day after day, love turns gray
like the skin of a dying man
Night after night, we pretend it's all right
But I have grown older
and you have grown colder and
nothing is very much fun anymore

And I can feel one of my turns coming on
I feel cold as a razor blade tight as a tourniquet
dry as a funeral drum

Run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left
you'll find my favourite axe
Don't look so frightened
this is just a passing phase
Just one of my bad days
Would you like to watch TV
Or get between the sheets?
Or contemplate the silent freeway?
Would you like something to eat?
Would you like to learn to fly?
Would you like to see me try?
Would you like to call the cops?
Do you think it's time I stopped?
Why are you running away?

Pink Floyd Music Publishers / Pink Floyd Music 1979