Lyrics:

At the back of my mind, on the tip of my tongue
Begging to be forgotten
Emphatically written, dramatically read
Quoted completely verbatim

It's a spectator sport for the masochists
And a grimace on the face of the masses
In a side street café they can't bear to watch
But they're still peering over their glasses

It's a different kind of tension
With an audience involved
You don't want to draw their attention
I'm a coward after all
It's a different kind of tension

Ears are retracted and cutlery clatters
To mask the sound of heart break
They can go back to their coffee and cream
While I take my leave with a handshake

It's a spectator sport for the masochists
And a grimace on the face of the masses
In a side street café they can't bear to watch
But they're still peering over their glasses

It's a different kind of tension
With an audience involved
You don't want to draw their attention
I'm a coward after all
It's a different kind of tension

It's a spectator sport for the masochists
And a grimace on the face of the masses

It's a different kind of tension
It's a different kind of tension
It's a different kind of tension