This is called Hammering Heart ♪ I suppose love lives in a dustbin behind the garden wall You have to grovel on the ground and be pretty disgusting to find it at all And I suppose that it grows on you, standing there with no clothes on And I suppose because there's beautiful girls in this town I'll stay here 'til I've chosen one And I suppose life's like a hunt, really, the hounds have fun until the fox gets bagged And not one girl in this town will ever fall in love with me, they'll get dragged ♪ And her heart speaks to me, says the room, the room, the room beneath her dress And I suppose that it beats for me like a hammering moon pulling tides through her chest Suppose she says that she owes me all that she owns and all that she is It seems to me I suppose that her heart's not enough and her love is a swizz ♪ And so, suppose love lives in a mansion, how the hell do I get over the wall? And if my rope's not stretched the right tension, I can't cross this Grand Canyon at all And I suppose that it grows like a tumour, spreads like a rumour, like the grass grows an inch every day And I suppose that before I even know it, the tide will start flowing And the drum beneath my jacket will say