You're here with me for the moment
But I know you're going back
You have a brown leather suitcase
You didn't bother to unpack
I've been tying my shoes together
Then I've been trying to walk away
I was a junkie all summer
But autumn's here any day now
How much, how much it feels like
We are losing for the moment
How much, how much it feels like
We are losers on the verge of something great
The stars are directing the future
And what they're tuning into I can't say
But I want the universe to love me
I'm writing songs every day
There's a girl singing into a hairbrush
There's a mob boss in every man
I wish I could sing "tralala"
The way Paolo Conte can
Right
How much, how much it feels like
We are losing for the moment
How much, how much it feels like
We are losers on the verge of something great
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
On the verge of something great
How much, how much
(Pa-pa-pam) It feels like
(Pa-pa-pam) We are losing for the moment
(Pa-pa-pam) How much, how much
(Pa-pa-pam) It feels like
(Pa-pa-pam) We are losers on the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
We are losers on the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something