| She was an ex-marine
|
| She had her own machine
|
| She put my soul in dirty, and it came out clean
|
| I was in toxic awe
|
| I had my locked-up jaw
|
| I didn’t talk much, I listened and I looked and saw
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| And I was just 19
|
| I must’ve seemed quite keen
|
| She broke me open, I was no longer on either team
|
| So I’m going to Brighton, honey
|
| I’m going to Brighton, now
|
| (Ooh, la la la)
|
| (Ooh, la la la la la la)
|
| I was born to ramble
|
| I was born to roam
|
| But some days there’s nowhere I can just stay home
|
| So I trade in my shoes and my highway sign
|
| And I go on rambling through my own open mind
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Chose things to discard
|
| It didn’t seem so hard
|
| Find freedom just down the river from my own back yard
|
| So I’m going to Brighton, honey
|
| I’m going to Brighton, now!
|
| (Ooh, la la la)
|
| (Ooh, la la la la la la)
|
| No no no no no
|
| She was a real bad bitch
|
| She was a dominant switch
|
| She deep into AC/DC, 1970's kid
|
| She didn’t bug me much
|
| I called her kiss my crutch
|
| Maybe we spoke a different language but we kept in touch
|
| Now decades down the line
|
| Still get swept up sometimes
|
| A little revelry whenever certain stars align
|
| So I’m going to Brighton, honey
|
| I’m going to Brighton, now
|
| Now, now
|
| (Ooh, la la la)
|
| (Ooh, la la la la la) |