I left the city through a tin can in a fevered state
burrowed beneath bypasses & dual carriageways
found an old abandoned house with a fresh warm bed
to a home and a family with a clear cool head.
Like a dog eared page with a tea stain drip
it's a tourist trap outlined in the script
go tell friar tuck that he dont exist
like global warming, some old wives myth.
But if you really missed the east then you would call
and if you really missed those early morning sprawls
and if you weren't fixed on finding another way
then i suppose there's one more chance
tell me if you need me, in the morning i'll be near
Kill the bought time with a biro and a melody
bury the bodies outside of the city
and if it don't exist, then it ain't for me
tell the beckoning canyons in the long dead seas
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