| In the days before the curfew came I wander, dissolute
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| Through the pressure and the noise of this city we pollute
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| Out into cherry blossom and the fresh-cut grass
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| Faces in bay windows tapping at the glass
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| I feel the sting of springtime pollen when it hits
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| Takes me back to summer mornings with that pill taste in my sinuses
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| It’s the easy magic of the A to B
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| It’s funny how it takes on a new poignancy
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| I drip in the thick wetness of the sights and sounds
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| Call in at the Crown, a little Motown, where’s your lockdown now?
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| Th simple joys of getting out, doing the rounds
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| Seeing streetlights shiver on in a new part of town
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| Streets of sound of mind, I’ve gotta find, I wander
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| Turning round to see no odyssey no longer
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| All the best ones sound like longing
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| That’s what she said
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| I can’t shift the noise of Boys of Summer from my head
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| Now the city’s like a film set where they’ve upped and gone
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| The sirens sing their lonely karaoke songs
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| I push the blues down through my boots into the earth below
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| Drumming up the ghosts I cherish most to dance the lonely roads
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| Wanna wander through the bloodshot whites of hot-wired eyes
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| The shivering grey violence, UK Friday nights
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| Streets of sound of mind, I’ve gotta find, I wander
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| Turning round to see no odyssey no longer
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| Now it’s just me and my memories, city streets are empty
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| Phantom frequency, FM MD 20/20
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| Faded flag up on a balcony in front of me
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| Hanging out with only yesterdays for company
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| First-time callers reach an anxious pitch
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| Queuing for a pack of matches as they’re scratching that Blitz spirit itch
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| Where’s your lockdown now?
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| Where’s your lockdown now?
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| Where’s your lockdown now?
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| Streets of sound of mind, I gotta find, I wander
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| Turning round to see no odyssey no longer |