The Lover’s Arcade Songtext
von Jimmy Maddon

You go out on a Saturday night
Looking to pick a fight
The only thing you succeed in
Is looking like a fucking tyke
Is this the sort of creature you really want her to see?

And it′s another miserable lunch
You wonder if you're the pick of the bunch
Every time you play the Teddy Picker
You seem to pull out the scum
Is this the sort of creature you really want her to see?

And the love arcade plays the odds
You′re next in line
You should try


You meet late on a Tuesday night
The rain forces you inside
As you try to play little tricks on your brain
Because you're trying to hide
The fact you might be falling in love sooner than you liked

And the touch of her hand sends shivers
Down to the tips of your toes
Like when the lightning strikes
Or the twist meets the turn
The touch of her lips is like the fog lifted by the morning sun

The love arcade plays the odds
You're next in line
You should try
You think you′re so daft for playing
But he gave you the dime

You think you′re so daft for playing
But he gave you the dime