98 shades of grey
Wake up in the morning, roll out of bed
Slap on some makeup, run a brush across her head
Upstairs, downstairs, coffee and then
The newspaper's waiting, asking to be read
She breezes through the headlines, flips through the pages
Stock market's down but they're raising all the wages
Then she hurries to the bus in the dark and barely makes it
Wondering how today she's going to fake it
Try, try as you might, things just don't work out like that
The sun isn't white, and the sky isn't black
She sits down in her chair, and a moment to breathe
Then she turns on the computer and the moniter screen
It blinks right to life like it's not just a machine
But she knows not to wonder what its heart might mean
Photoshop, acrobat, digital clay
Building a sculptue, day after day
She wonders if it'll always stay the same
Her life playing out in 98 shades of grey
Try, try as you might, things just don't work out like that
The sun isn't white and the sky isn't black
Cry, cry if you like, but you can't make it change
The world isn't cut like a newspaper page
25 per cent, the choice is clearer
75 is the other way went
But emotions don't always stare back in the mirror
And the level of grey is still 50 per cent
Try, try as you might, things just don't work out like that
The sun isn't white and the sky isn't black
Cry, cry if you like, but you can't make a change
The world isn't cut like a newspaper page
Lie, lie to yourself if it makes you feel fine
You get less done if you ask yourself why
But I, I want to know, if I can find a way
How to choose my shade of grey
Wake up in the morning, roll out of bed
The newspaper's waiting, asking to be read
She lingers a moment, then moves on ahead