Clubs, so unexciting from the outside I feel
I cut your hair in the sad bedroom
And the next day we tried to buy a wig
In the windy afternoon sun
Noise all over the place
Leaves mushy round our feet

When we walk from street to street
Happy to be free of sloanes
Between the tool works and industry things
In your new town
Looking for our fireworks
Digging all we see

We walk in gothic streets
‘Til it’s time for me to go
Like the last mouthful of cornflakes
Leaves mushy Sheffield

Heavenly voices, la-la-la

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