Testo Happiness

Ah, the city, the speed of the city
The fashion and the passion of billboards on the busses
Make another dollar. Make another call on your cell phone
Satellite brings it all into focus now: bring it all home
Love is a contact sport
Beauty is an aisle at the supermarket
Truth is a notion to be left behind
Burned and buried, not seek and find
But I still hate to go home alone.
(Love is over, gone, gone, gone, gone...)
(It's all just a dream...)

The checkout at the grocery, the girls in the magazines
Skinnier than subscription cards that fall to the floor
And get dusted under shelves and shelves of candy
Sweet like a nothing whispered in an ear
Sweet like the words we all want to hear
Like: "Love, Joy, Patience, Peace, Kindness, Understanding..."

I know I can't belong here
I know I can't be from here
But I still hate to go home alone