I hate all my clothes; they're all falling apartnDoes the colour of my shirt match the collar of my heart?nWhen was the last time you checked your machine?nAnd I'm wondering will you ever get the message?nnOur stars say that we were never meant to benMaybe we shouldn't rely on magazine theorynnTry as you may, try as I mightnWe squint our eyes under the red disco lightnI'm gonna buy some new clothesnMy room I'll rearrangenBut I'd have to be blind to see things haven't changednLike the boy and his bags by the side of the roadnAll the time in the world but nowhere to go