You never get your hands covered in dirt You never get your heart covered in hurt Lean your cheep upon your hands - I'll be your glove I try to dress you up with my love You walk right through my walls You walk right through my walls The ghost of a thousand little lies Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes The ghost of a thousand little lies Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes Take me to England cause I'm going slightly mad (nobody will notice I'm mad in England) You never get your hands covered in love Lean your cheek upon your hand - I'll be your glove