Sun goes down behind your house
I can see the light in your window
Where your blind isn't closed right down
I don't know which light is furthest away from a world you've taken for granted
Three seconds of feedback, turn it off
It won't speak to you with a feeling you'd understand because, it doesn't sing
I know I was no DJ and money means something, much more alive
You tell me London is cool
You're telling me London is cool
Distant train whispers have been filtered out
With orange from streetlights the soundtrack to make-up and closing your eyes
Seven-eleven or heaven, which one is mine?
'Cause I'm getting nowhere watching you wasting your time
Someday I'll show Dave what I meant
