One sound, one single sound One kiss, one single kiss A face outside the windowpane However did it come to this?
A man who ran, a child who cried A girl who heard, a voice that lied The sun that burned a fiery red The vision of an empty bed
The use of force, he was so tough She'll soon submit, she's had enough
The march of fate, the broken will Someone is lying very still
He has laughed and he has cried He has fought and he has died He's just the same as all the rest He's not the worst; and he's not the best
And still this ceaseless murmuring The babbling that I brook The seas of faces, eyes upraised The empty screen, the vacant look
A man in black on a snow white horse A pointless life has run its course The red-rimmed eyes, the tears still run As he fades into the setting sun
Bogart: You're going on that plane to take you where you belong. Bergman: But no, I have... Bogart: You have got to listen to me. Do you have any idea what you have to look forward to if you stay here? Nine chances out of ten we both end up in a concentration camp and that... Bergman: You're only saying these things to make me go. Bogart: I'm saying it 'cause it's true. Inside us, we both know we belong in different... ...maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.
Bergman: But what about us? What about us? What about us?