| They swallow their courage, they pluck up their pride
|
| They walk hand in hand on the promenade
|
| They’ve nothing to hide
|
| It’s beautiful here in the summer, where gold people lay
|
| And the sound of the carnival drums from the sea to the park, today
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override
|
| She stepped on the seven
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| En route to her shop
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| Where colourful clothes are the biggest thing
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| And black leather crop
|
| And people come here in the summer
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| To check out their fear
|
| And the sounds of the people who’ve conquered their terror and doubt
|
| Are near
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override
|
| They gather at sunset, they head for the sea
|
| They stand hand in hand in a circle at, sin seaside city
|
| It’s beautiful here in the summer, where gold people lay
|
| And the sound of the carnival drums from the sea to the park, today
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override
|
| And it won’t take much, to change something so deep inside
|
| And it won’t take much, to find manual override |