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Musical: Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris
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They hold each other's hand They walk without a sound Down forgotten streets Their shadows kiss the ground Their footsteps sing a song That's ended before it's begun They walk without a sound The desperate ones Just like the tiptoe moth They dance before the flame They've burned their hearts so much That death is just a game And if love calls again So foolishly they run They run without a sound The desperate ones I know the road they're on I've walked their crooked mile A hundred times or more I drank their cup of bile They watch their dreams go down Behind the setting sun They walk without a sound The desperate ones And underneath the bridge The waters sweet and deep There is the journey's end The land of endless sleep They cry to us for help We think it's all in fun They cry without a sound The desperate ones Let he who threw the stone at them Stand up and take a bow He knows the verb to love But he'll never know how On the bridge of nevermore They disappear one by one Disappear without a sound The desperate ones
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