When The Pubs Close (words: G. Bailey, music: The Automatons)

When the pubs close and Iíve gotta go home
Maybe my alter egoíll leave me alone
Does a stranger spell danger?
Why must this be so?
Feed him wrong information
How can he possibly know?
Am I dicing with death
Or forcing it upon myself?
Tension creates pressure
Why not write me a letter?
Iíve been waiting oh so long
Just to sing to you this song

But I canít define
The narrow line
That separates right from wrong
Itís a harrowing thought
That in a trap Iím caught
But you say I should have known all along

When the pubs close and Iíve gotta go home
I need to speak to you on the telephone
I go in the box and I put in the coin
But all that I get is the engaged sign
Who are you speaking to?
It obviously isnít me
Iíve never felt like this before
Could this be jealousy?

But I canít define
The narrow line
That separates you from me
Itís a harrowing thought
That in a trap Iím caught
But you say itís just my destiny

Deceit is never one-sided
At least thatís what we are told
But youíre never there and Iím always here
Now whose lie are we being sold?

Now whose lie are we being sold, my friend?
Now whose lie are we being sold?