Baby sleep dark in a winter of coral

And sheets of powdering snow



In a cafe somewhere wont you visit us there

But you drink up your wine and you go







The people next door are making these noises

That seeping into this dream

The cars in the street with there warm oily voices

Starting to whisper the theme





The smoke in this place must have gone to your head

And we're falling and flailing down (yeah)

And the metre keeps ticking outside on the road

And the outskirts ******* of town



The people next door are making these noises

Seeping into this dream

The cars in the street with there warm oily voices

Starting to whisper the theme





Morning brings aching, amnesia shadows , like a tray of

Colours and rice

In an old river bed of yellows and reds

And your hands and feet are like ice





The people next door are making these noises

Seeping into this dream

The cars in the street with there warm oily voices

Starting to whisper the theme

The people next door are making these noises

Seeping into this dream

The people next door are making these noises

Seeping into this dream