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segunda-feira, maio 28, 2012

LYRIC

Trudging slowly over wet sand Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen This is the coastal town That they forgot to close down Armageddon - come Armageddon! Come, Armageddon! Come! Everyday is like Sunday Everyday is silent and grey Hide on the promenade Etch a postcard : "How I Dearly Wish I Was Not Here" In the seaside town ...that they forgot to bomb Come, Come, Come - nuclear bomb Everyday is like Sunday Everyday is silent and grey Trudging back over pebbles and sand And a strange dust lands on your hands (And on your face...) (On your face ...) (On your face ...) (On your face ...) Everyday is like Sunday "Win Yourself A Cheap Tray" Share some greased tea with me Everyday is silent and grey

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