glöd, glöden, glödar, glöda

it’s warm inside the night club, your face is lit up by a disco light. I don’t want to go home alone, not tonight. I have a picture of a man who used to sit in that chair. I will go anywhere, just as long as I’m with someone. you will do, just take me home for tea. if I told you my stories and sang you my songs, would you laugh at me? would you pity me? what would you say if I asked of you - not out of accident, out of loneliness? would you shelter me? will you shelter me?