Crowded House — Eyes Grow Heavy

We stand on guard 'til our eyes grow so heavy We hang on tight 'til our hands grow so weak All precautions prepare you for nothing When lights go down on the street And when the morning comes You won't remember too much of anything at all And in my future of fantastic visions They're tall and sleek and they tower over me Tie me down and I'll beg them for mercy I'm paralysed in my sleep And when the morning comes I won't remember too much of anything at all Before they break in to steal the silver Thieves come 'round to admire the loss At the end of each waking hour Is just one more chime on the clock And when the morning comes You won't be aware of his touch or anything at all