They're waiting to hate you
So give them an excuse
[this repeats for all verses]
Hats off to my distant hope
I'm held back by a velvet rope
And he's behind the wall the smoke machine has made between us
And if he does exist, if camera clicking, green room guests swirl round the
man whose real life can be touched
Then I will do just that much
[this repeats for the next stanza]