Text: New Order. Brotherhood. As It is when It Was.
I've kept my head against the wall
I've been this way for so long now
You weren't exactly falling over yourself
When last I saw you
Well I always thought
We'd get along like a house on fire
Until you told me that I'd have to go
How can someone like you, work that slow?
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
I don't feel anything no more
This state of grace is consuming me
I'm not grown up and I am not a boy
I feel no pain and I feel no joy
Well, I always thought
We'd get along like a house on fire
In those days when the sun was warm
I ran in the street where I was born
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
The streets are so empty at this time of night
I'd rather walk on my own than fight
In a world where I'd forgotten you
I found myself forgotten, too
That's the danger of believing books
And all the lies of those thieves and crooks
We sing intellectual songs of love
From a stolen pen to a velvet glove
I've been this way for so long now
You weren't exactly falling over yourself
When last I saw you
Well I always thought
We'd get along like a house on fire
Until you told me that I'd have to go
How can someone like you, work that slow?
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
I don't feel anything no more
This state of grace is consuming me
I'm not grown up and I am not a boy
I feel no pain and I feel no joy
Well, I always thought
We'd get along like a house on fire
In those days when the sun was warm
I ran in the street where I was born
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
Whatever you think of me
You listen hard and I will make you see
The streets are so empty at this time of night
I'd rather walk on my own than fight
In a world where I'd forgotten you
I found myself forgotten, too
That's the danger of believing books
And all the lies of those thieves and crooks
We sing intellectual songs of love
From a stolen pen to a velvet glove
Brotherhood
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