| A little tired of the city
|
| A little tired of you
|
| A little tired of the small sort of things
|
| That we never do
|
| A little tired of the grey skies
|
| A little tired of the rain
|
| Won’t you take me away from here?
|
| Or maybe France or maybe Spain?
|
| And we’ll sit by the blue skies
|
| And talk about missing the rain
|
| And we’ll waste another evening
|
| Lying about the good old days
|
| A little tired of the city
|
| A little tired of you
|
| A little tired of the small sort of things
|
| That we never do
|
| A little tired of the grey skies
|
| A little tired of the rain
|
| Won’t you take me away from here?
|
| Or maybe France or maybe Spain?
|
| And we’ll sit by the blue skies
|
| And talk about missing the rain
|
| And we’ll waste another evening
|
| Lying about the good old days
|
| And maybe I was wrong
|
| To say the good days are gone
|
| The roses are wilting
|
| As fast as the day is
|
| As fast as the day is long
|
| And we’ll sit by the blue skies
|
| And talk about missing the rain
|
| And we’ll waste another evening
|
| Lying about the good old days |