In an old Silverline I was yours, you were mine I was hoarse, you were mean We designed drum machines
(C): But every day in every way I'm falling out of love with you Every kiss means less and less I'm falling out of love with you Every hour kills a flower I'm falling out of love with you You just bore me more and more I'm falling out of love with you
They made sounds much like drums I was young you were dumb Now you're older and I'm wiser We design synthesizers (C)