Futureheads, The
The Baron
So here we are, queuing on the streetThe ground keeps sticking to your feet, it's early.The queue is a thousand strongThe town is closing downBusinesses are turning to the shadows As the shutters go downI hate to say I could be soldThe shutters I was leaving hereNice to meet you, on your wayI'm gladly watching the walls come tumbling downWhat you pulling out your hair for?Let's dance as it hits the floor. (x2)Every few decades the plans tend to go astrayThe blue is turning to the grey, it's the end of the headacheEverybody is at home, and the streets are aloneThe only sound is papers that are blownBy the winds from the seaI hate to say I could be soldThe shutters I was leaving hereNice to meet you, but on your wayI'm gladly watching the walls come tumbling downWhat you pulling out your hair for?Let's dance as it hits the floor. (x2)
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