(Heaton/Rotheray). And the women tug their hair. Like they're trying to prove it won't fall out. And all the men are gargoyles. Dipped long in Irish stout.
And the women tug their hair. Like they're trying to prove it won't fall out. And all the men are gargoyles. Dipped long in Irish stout. . The whole place is pickled.
Took a walk in Rotterdam, thinking about her train.. All along the banls of memory, holding tide away.. And on the end of every corner i could almost hear her sound..