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City life is closing in on me |
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The way things go, thirty years, |
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Bus timetable'll be my elergy |
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Up at seven every working day |
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Pay comes in, pay goes out |
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It's a week-by-week charade |
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General panic in the marketplace |
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Boss found hung in office |
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Could not stand the pace |
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And as the peak-hour traffic jams below |
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Someone gets the story, somebody spread the rumour |
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People come and go |
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Wandered down along the river last night |
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Call me romantic, I say I couldn't sleep |
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Until the first-light struck me down |
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Padding homeward on the inside lane |
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Early morning, freeway's cool and quiet |
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Dodging rubber stains |
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People talking in a seaside bar |
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I ain't sentimental, but Lord |
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Sometimes I get that gypsy urge to travel far |
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You know I'll disappear some long weekend |
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Find a mangrove landscape |
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Stretch out along some busted jetty |
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And forget who I am |
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You go to move |
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You got to go |
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You go to be somebody |
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You got to roll |
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You got to stop |
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You got to change |
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You got to make a little money |
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And be a little strange |
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And one long day |
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Is all it takes to steal her heart away |
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One long night |
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And it's allright, you've done it again |
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Soft, low words |
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And slender ladies, beneath the cafe fans |
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One long day |
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Layed by dreams |
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Cotton dresses, a Spanish border town |
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Dreams so far |
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From the subway, the crowds heading home |
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Close each day |
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In technicolor, a million miles away |
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One long night and you're alone |
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Meanwhile |
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City ways |
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Life goes creeping on |
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Sometimes |
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I get the blues |
