Tekster: Guillemots. Through The Window Pane. Trains To Brazil.

Aaahhhhh
aaaahhhhaaa
aaaah
You're feelin old

Its 1 o clock on a friday morning
I'm trying to keep my back from the wall
The prophets and their bombs have had another success
And i'm wondering why we bother at all

And i think of you on cold winter mornings
Darling they remind me of when we were at school
Nothing really mattered when you called out my name
In fact, nothing really mattered at all

And i think about how long it will take them to blow us away
But i won't get me down, I'm just thankful to be facing the day

Cos days don't get you far when you're gone

It's five o clock on a Friday morning
one hundred telephones shake and ring
And one of them is from someone who knew you.......

And i still think of you on cold winter mornings
Darling they'll still remind me of when we were at school
When they could never have persuaded me that lives like yours
were the hands of these eronious fools

And to those of you who moan your lives through one day to the next
Well let them take you next
Cos you live and be thankful you're here

See it could be you tomorrow next year

(Thanks to jimmy for these lyrics)