I picture you vague
You never wore denim until then
Stuck at Four Lane Ends
A flip-down bench
An inept perch
Stuck at Four Lane Ends
Rubble and railroads
Peppering the plains
A tanoy crackles
Announcing more delays
If I was alone, I would've dropped
Your mere presence pulled me up
Wiping dead grass
From each other backs
On top of Primrose Hill
Wavering attention
Questioning commitment
On top of Primrose Hill
The position of passion
Is irrelevant
'Cause I've been trained to adore
The insignificant
If I was alone, I would've dropped
I think it was your presence; pulled me up
We uneathed a dinosaur spine
Of smooth bony rock
My hands mapped out your reddened back
Between the marks of your shaps
If I was alone, I would've dropped