Heavy lidded boys in shiny suits,
Fags fastened to top lips,
Slide through a greasy town.
A desolate landscape
Damp with peeling paint.
Lights from the solitary arcade
Draw them as they talk of London.
But this seaside town in winter
Holds them like a mother
As Mr Big drives by,
And they shiver
With anxious possibilities.
Slide through a greasy town.
A desolate landscape
Damp with peeling paint.
Lights from the solitary arcade
Draw them as they talk of London.
But this seaside town in winter
Holds them like a mother
As Mr Big drives by,
And they shiver
With anxious possibilities.
