When the words have finally run out I shall place these hands upon this mouth For talking made a distant life So I'd rather be quiet I'd rather be quiet Even if it isn't torture I would rather drown than be drowning And if it isn't honest, then it isn't worth the breath I'll hold it instead I'll hold it instead I'll spend the next year in bed If I can't get my way They might say I've given in But I've given up and there's a difference And when the words I lost are found I'll move these hands away and speak them out Out-out-out-out Out-out-out-out Out-out-out-out, woo-woo I'll spend the next year in bed If I can't get my way Ah-ah-ah-ah, woo-woo Ah-ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah-ah, woo-woo Ah-ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah-ah