That token drag on your cigarette,
That well-known face in the fire,
It could be someone you can’t forget,
Someone you’ve learnt to admire.
And it’s strange
how the feeling goes;
all change —
Down the river Ophelia goes.
You’re treading water, the price is steep,
You say you’ll cope with it all;
You’ve made some promises you can’t keep,
You throw yourself against the wall,
You throw yourself against the wall.
And it’s strange…
You heard a noise in the firegrate,
You look to see who goes there —
It’s just the stranger, he’s come too late
And even he’s unprepared
To find the cupboard so bare
And it’s strange…
Down the river Ophelia goes.