(Difford/Tilbrook). . He's taking her away. He's acting like a general. Generally his game is so familiar. He wants her to play. With a toaster and a kettle.
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Difford-Tilbrook. . Standing by the curate,. Hat over his eyes,. Smokes drifts slowly from him,. Looking kind and wise.. . Seen him in the papers,. Murdered by Malone,.
WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see.. . Business as usual at the harmony home.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . Today is none of our concern. That rewarding cigarette. That burns slowly by the bed. Fills the room with mystery. The apple ripens on the tree.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . When this young man comes rolling home. The lamp posts move and in the road. I sing and dance in falling rain. It's good to be back home again.
It felt so bad that I'm in pain. Then why don't I say no not again. Your love has failed and all's gone sour. You have to see her every hour. When you can't sleep your mind is blank.
(difford/tilbrook). . Power station by the river. Grinding slowly to a stop. Clock still ticking on the mantle. Flames still flicker on the log. Coffee brewing in the kitchen.
I bought a toothbrush, some toothpaste. A flannel for my face. Pajamas, a hairbrush. New shoes and a case. I said to my reflection. Let's get out of this place.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . What have I done. What did I say. Am I the one. You can not face. When I need love. I look to you. But when I search I can not trace.
Tears for attention, kisses of corruption. Tears for attention, kisses of corruption. . Tears for attention. Heard all through the night. What is it you want from me.
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I've come across the desert. To greet you with a smile. My camel looks so tired. It's hardly worth my while. . To tell you of my travels. Across the golden east.
I rode my bike along the towpath. Past all the cranes that bow their heads. Down by the river to the gas works. Where I would meet up with my friends.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I'm down the lane on Sunday morning. Hung over and forever yawning. I look for trousers that will fit me. She buys a yellow shirt that's sickly.
Striking matches an' I'm smokin' cigarettes. Puttin? on a kettle, playin? a cassette. Foldin? up the papers, rubbin? my eyes. Thinkin? of all that happened last night.
WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see.. . You get your trunks.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . Acid casualties and angry young men. The litmus test of a guitar and pen. Revolve around date sheets lost lonely rooms. And this is my home and I will leave soon.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . I've come across the desert. To greet you with a smile. My camel looks so tired. It's hardly worth my while. To tell you of my travels.
(Difford/Tilbrook). . My dad he drives a tipper. For the factory down the lane. And every June or July. He takes two weeks in Spain. He hangs his dirty trousers.