1. |
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The music scene is dead in this town
So when all my friends come around
We end up at the places that used to play our sound
The trendy youth and the bourgeoisie
Consume the streets with apathy
But we refuse to let the old dreams drown
But there's still the old elite
As we rub shoulders with the priests
And the weekend superstars
And we smoke ourselves to death
As we toast to their good health
And drink white russians from the bar
Skinny jeans and feathered hair teens
And all the social go betweens
Pondering the poison they'll pick this evening
But I've still got my wandering sons
Charge your glasses, show me some love
Enchanted by the trail of dust we're leaving
Trading tales and battle scars
From punk rock girls and cheap guitars
To seeking glory from the road
And dying young from growing old
But we will
We will never be
We will
We will never be lonely
Never be lonely
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2. |
Drinking With Strangers
04:08
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3. |
Something Sweet & Easy
03:29
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Darkly lit room, strong sense of doom
Present in hazy nightclubs
Words I can't hear, smell of stale beer
And a few friends enjoying
Laughs over spills, a lack of pills
All the same songs we heard last week
You stagger by, catching my eye
And it's clear you're too friendly
Grabbing a drink, ask what I think
About this clueless DJ
I made a new friend last night
She seems to like me very much
We carry on, not very long
Till you decide on being
Open and shrill, out for the thrill
All joy in life is fleeting
So you pull close, unknown to those
Who tend to talk amongst themselves
Speaking in lies, a little thigh
That you just happened to show
Adamant still, in for the kill
You won't be going home alone
We went back to her house that night
She seems to like me very much
But if you believe me
This could be something that's not sleazy
This could be something sweet and easy
This could be better than before
Now I'm liking my chances
The party's in full swing
Till you go walking through the door
With your brand new boyfriend
It turns out that very night
She doesn't like me all that much
But if you believe me
This could be something that's not sleazy
This could be something sweet and easy
This could be better than before
I fell in love at the wrong time
Whispering sweet nothings in my ear
All of those words I long to hear
This could be better than before
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4. |
Smells Like Sunday
05:26
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Looking out on the street
10 am, waking I waver
Longing for sweet release
Coffee cups, pills and the paper
Looking forward to being ignored
By those in their best sabbath clothing
I can see it in their eyes
Their pity, their spite and their loathing
Sorely telling me
I should have chosen wisely
Seen the signs
Got myself to bed on time
Instead of drinking till the rise of the sun
And it smells like Sunday
Feels like rain
Looks like I'm leaving alone again
Thinking of all those stupid things I've done
On the train, whiskey stains
Paper cuts, my own devices
Reminded of times we spent
Trying to cut back on our vices
Leaving the city I bask
In the new Sunday morning
Could these wheels leave the track
Take me where ever I'm going
Instead of telling me
I should have chosen wisely
Seen the signs
Got myself to bed on time
Instead of drinking till the rise of the sun
And it smells like Sunday
Feels like rain
Looks like I'm back on the road again
Thinking of all those stupid things I've done
Look at me tear me up
Leave me here ripped to the seems
Trying to pick up the tatters
Of my broken dreams
All the world looks at me
Wandering through this routine
Hoping that this time next week
I'll be sober and clean
But what are the chances
Same time and same place we'll meet
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Jimmy Richards Glasgow, UK
Jimmy Richards is a musician, writer and vlogger from Glasgow, Scotland. He likes tea, beer and baked goods. He dislikes capitalism, modern horror films and the works of Ben Stiller.
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