High Llamas (The)
Painters Paint
They stumble around the lobby bearsThe name forgotten inside the hourAnd what they becameThe painters paint all those sad old saintsTake the dust sheet down in this old theme townA feel for the sea does not appeal to meAnd winter's not cold enough like it's meant to beThe painters paint all those sad old saintsTake the dust sheet down from this old theme townThe painters paint all those sad old saintsTake the dust sheet down in this old theme townNow we're spoiled for choice, came the trooper's voiceTake an endless guess at my friendliness
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