A radio plays `White Christmas'
  It's been doing that for years
  If someone leaves the station
  Oh please don't talk to strangers
  Can't you see they're not like us
  
  The vacant flesh of U.D.'s
  Stand leaning by the walls
  You can feel them thinking over
  Ways of merging with the thoughts
  You never dare to dream
  
  It must have been years
  It must have been years
  
  They want to relive all my memories
  Give me `the service' daily
  Maybe it was mother
  I can't seem to remember
  Much at all these days
  
  Picture open doorways
  No pick-ups by the taxi boys
  Just a bed near the window
  And an old lamp by my pillow
  And the things I have to do
  
  It must have been years
  It must have been years
  
  The driver wants to touch me
  He mentions all the old cop bullshit
  I try to back away
  But he's so strong I just can't move
  Maybe I don't want to anyway
  
  The time to leave is always `soon'
  I wonder if I'm lying
  A vague feeling of panic
  As a man leaves saying "thank you"
  I blame it all on you
  
  It must have been years