Winds howled. Rains spit down. 狂风怒吼。雨吐了。

All these nights playing precious games. 所有这些夜玩珍贵的游戏。

Cheap hotel in some seaboard town 经济型酒店在一些沿海城镇

closed down for the winter and whispered names. 倒闭的冬天，低声的名字。

Puppy-dog waves on a big moon sea 在一个大月亮海小狗狗波

snap our heels half-heartedly 捕捉我们的高跟鞋敷衍了事

and how come you know better than me 和怎么来的，你比我更清楚

that this is not love. 这不是爱。

No, this is not love. 不，这不是爱。

   

Empty drugstore postcards freeze 空药店明信片冻结

sunburst images of summers gone. 夏天的旭日图像消失了。

Think I see us in these promenade days 想我看到我们在这几天长廊

before we learned October's song. 我们学会了十月的前曲。

Out on the headland, one gale-whipped tree; 列于岬角，一是大风刮起的树;

curious, head bent to see. 好奇，低下头看看。

And how come you know better than me 又是如何得出你知道的比我好

that this is not love. 这不是爱。

   

Down to the sad south, smokey plumes 下到悲伤南，烟羽

mark that real world city home. 标记现实世界中的城市家园。

Broken spells and silent gloom 残破的法术和沉默忧郁

ooze from that concrete honeycomb. 软泥从混凝土蜂窝。

Puppy-dog waves on a big moon sea 在一个大月亮海小狗狗波

snapped our heels half-heartedly 抢购我们的高跟鞋敷衍了事

and how come you know better than me 和怎么来的，你比我更清楚

that this is not love. 这不是爱。