The bower broke the art of fiction She asks me to make her come and I say "First tell me all about your rare affliction" The city is a painting and I make out only half the words she traced On foggy mirrors, the parsing of lips And tapping SOS It's anybody's guess And I know all she's got left to spend Is her time on me so let's pretend That I've got all the time in the world And she's got all the time in the world So let's spend all the time in the world The quixotic pause and the wake that followed The floating buoys in the lake that swallowed Our unlaid plans and the unmade plea The modest mention or the fierce decree That we are all the same We've only changed the names And all the rest remains ♪ And I know all she's got left to spend Is her time on me so let's pretend That I've got all the time in the world And she's got all the time in the world So let's spend all the time in the world