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We make our own mythologies |
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Yr maps wont let us down again |
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Yr legends all played out |
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Yr keepering some dark secrets, |
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But you talk in your sleep |
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We make our own mythologies |
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All gangster scenes and bullet scars |
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Yr fashion's three months late |
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If I had the guts I promise I would |
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Cut the powerlines |
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Tape the letterbox shut |
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I don't worry about those things |
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I don't worry about those... |
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One grey mess to another grey mess |
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Distance knows a heavy heart less |
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Every single, single night out |
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For a lifetime of college films |
|
(a sign! a sign!) |
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I'm hoping you don't call |
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Tear down our nightclubs put up flats |
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Tear down our pubs and put up flats |
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All rows of neat new tracts |
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Why'd you want to live here if there's nothing but housing? |
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Yr boyfriend owns the bar we drink |
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Yr boyfriend ruins everything |
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In a room with blinds drawn down |
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If I had the guts I would |
|
Cut the powerlines |
|
Tape the letterbox shut |
|
I don't worry about those things |
|
I don't worry about those... |
|
One green mess to another green mess |
|
Distance knows a heavy heart best |
|
One grey mess to another grey mess |
|
Distance knows a heavy heart less |
|
Every single, single night out |
|
For a lifetime of college films |
|
(a sign! a sign!) |
|
I'm hoping you don't call |
