telegram, i've got your souvenirs 1914 - 1918 i've got your photograph, i've got your poetry Young men, as us - Artists' Rifles Young men, as us - Artists' Rifles
: We sail on the bad tide We sail on the bad sea From your heart to my heart with sails cut from mercy From your heart to my heart From Summer to Spring
: (Instrumental)
: You and John are birds You and John are ghosts You and John are genies, guarding my coast And in my address book, you're depicted as birds Drawn in
: I have thought about you in your Summer abode In your lunatic smock, in chronicle mode The typewriter smack as you nail in the words and the turntable
: My password is a dead aunt's name A monument, a testament My password is a dead aunt's name A cenotaph, a shallow grave I'm thirty one and fading fast
: On the forecourts of French libraries from Reignac to Marseilles the rain rattles small cars, clouds drape over backseats I am a photograph in your
(Instrumental)
My password is a dead aunt's name A monument, a testament My password is a dead aunt's name A cenotaph, a shallow grave I'm thirty one and fading fast
On the forecourts of French libraries from Reignac to Marseilles the rain rattles small cars, clouds drape over backseats I am a photograph in your satchel
I have thought about you in your Summer abode In your lunatic smock, in chronicle mode The typewriter smack as you nail in the words and the turntable
