Dying Star

When the gypsy's tongue is tied and there is no where to hide
When the clock stops on midnight and a floresent light fills the sky
I make the last wish on a dying star
I close my eyes, only for you and I

I collapse in amazment as she kisses me
Thank you dying star
does this make me free

You and I believe in you but who believes in me
Could it be the smiling man or the man in the moon
smiling all the time
Every time she disapears,
Darlin, so do I

I take a colour photograph and I make it black and white
Things seem much more clear to me
But does that make them right

Falling fast and reaching for any branch I see
Holding on with everything, waiting to be free
Wishing for tomorrow, It always seems so far
looking every night for my friend the dying star