Авторы: Ian Curtis, Bernard Sumner, Peter Hook, Stephen Morris
G- F- C In fear every day, every evening, He calls her aloud from above, Carefully watched for a reason, Painstaking devotion and love, Surrendered to self preservation, From others who care for themselves. A blindness that touches perfection, But hurts just like anything else. Isolation, isolation, isolation. Mother I tried please believe me, I'm doing the best that I can. I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through, I'm ashamed of the person I am. Isolation, isolation, isolation. But if you could just see the beauty, These things I could never describe, These pleasures a wayward distraction, This is my one lucky prize. Isolation, isolation, isolation...