Piccadilly — текст песни (Squeeze)





(difford/tilbrook)



Shes not a picture above somebodys fire

She sits in a towel with a purple hair dryer,

She waits to get even with me.

She hooks up her cupcakes and puts on her jumper

Explains that shell be late to a worrying mother,

She meets me in piccadilly.

A begging folk singer stands tall by the entrance

His song relays worlds of most good intentions,

A fiver a ten p in his hat for collection.



She talks about office she talks about dresses

Shes seen one she fancies her smile is impressing,

So maybe Ill treat her someday.

We queue among strangers and strange conversation

Loves on the lips of all forms of engagements,

All queuing to see tonights play.



A man behind me talks to his young lady

Hes happy that she is expecting his baby,

His wife wont be pleased but shes not been round lately.



The girl was so dreadful we left in a hurry

We escaped in the rain for an indian curry,

At the candle lit taj mahal.

My lips to a napkin I called for a taxi

The invite of eyes made it tense but relaxed me,

My mind took a devious role.



The cab took us home through a night Id not noticed

The neon club lights of adult films and trini lopez,

My arm around love but my acting was her best.



We crept like two thieves from the kettle to the fire

We kissed to the sound of the silence that wed hired,

Now captured, your love in my arms.

A door opened slightly a voice spoke in worry

Mum went to bed without wind of the curry,

Our secret love made its advance.



Like adam and eve we took bite on the apple

Loose change in my pocket it started to rattle,

Heart like a gun was just half of the battle.



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