You can bash your head against a wall for years The wall is not impressed Or you can take a giant step away only to discover The wound's already dressed It's not hard to see a beautiful girl And imagine the life that you could have had with her But you can't bend time, nor bind it up in twine You can try and try, but you'll never read her mind Which is fine, fine 'Cause she cannot read yours You treat me worse than you'd treat any stranger For my part, I say thanks I am like a cobblestone street And you are like 50 Sherman tanks Roll right over me Reduce me to rubble I am Monsieur Bovary and you are Madame Trouble So much of what we grandly call love is simply in our heads How many doors slammed closed And stepped-on toes And songs composed And poems and prose About things we've heard in words nobody said: The show must not, the show must not The show must not go on You can bash your head against a wall forever The wall will never change But if you like the bruises and the blood The wall is not to blame I'm trying to make it seem like I'm over you The blindest man alive can see: It simply isn't true Love only lasts as long as it lasts Goes as far as it goes and it goes so goddamn fast Sometimes it's fun Sometimes burdensome Sometimes hard up Sometimes hard won But you only miss it if it's gone The show must not, the show must not The show must not go on Not go on, not go on, not go on, not go on...