I'm the harbinger of love I was made to lift you up Though you may not know my name You know my work In the rhymes you may have heard As a clue in the sunday crosswords Though the answer is obscure My face is clear I'm the harbinger of love I've been known to fuck you up In the way that gasoline can kill a headache What a headache I'll save you a trip if you save me a beer I'll reappear when you want me to Yea, that's what i'll do What a headache What a headache... Love