I'm the harbinger of love
I was made to lift you up
Though you may not know my name
You know my work

In the rhymes you may have heard
As a clue in the sunday crosswords
Though the answer is obscure
My face is clear

I'm the harbinger of love
I've been known to fuck you up
In the way that gasoline can kill a headache
What a headache

I'll save you a trip if you save me a beer
I'll reappear when you want me to
Yeah, that's what I'll do

What a headache
What a headache...

Love