Last Rites

When you’re feeling restless and broken-hearted
And you can’t spare the time for me –
When the lights go down in a broken downtown
And your head plays dead symphonies

You say your bicycle tyres are flat and your heart’s in a mess –
That’s forty miles of bad road for me
Will you come spend Christmas in Copenhagen?
Comets fly, come escape with me

You say your bicycle tyres are flat and your heart’s in a mess
And you walk through the streets in a dream –
Watch the sunlight dance off a broken zoom lens
And you talk in your sleep to me

So you feel so sickly and broken-hearted
And you don’t ever mind for me –
If we don’t spend Christmas in Copenhagen
Would you at least say last rites for me?