Monochrome Set The Man With The Black Moustache
When he speaks he's never loud
You could lose him in a crowd
Changing colour with the clouds
Self-effacing at the start
Oh so well he plays his part
Secret violence in his heart
Something stirring deeper down
This man is no children's clown
Leads you on to shaky ground
All good things, they have to end
Only so much you can spend
Broken faith is slow to mend
