We'll play on the road Flytipping, careful as you go And we'll watch as the lorries Transport their precious loads
With a bag in our hands Flytipping, me and my patient man Just by the hard shoulder This few who've understood
What is my name, what is yours? Do we own these things, what has it all been for? Flytipping on the road of course
What is yours and what is us? Do we fool ourselves with all those pretty words? Flytipping on the road with her
And I'll take you to the Fir trees As the paper drifts like falling snow
Under the trees Two hunters looking for ivory Discard their possessions, cast them to the breeze
'Cause the worms in the ground And the crows as they circle round Don't need these things to cling to For a homestead playground
What is my name, what is yours? Do we own these things, what has it all been for? Flytipping on the road of course
Shiny things that turn into rust So we show ourselves with all this pretty stuff Flytipping feels like just enough
And I'll take you to the verges By the nettles, by the roundabout And I'll pick you wild roses In the tunnels like the underpass
Compositores: Brett Lewis Anderson (Brett Anderson) (PRS), Neil John Codling (Neil Codling) (PRS), Richard John Oakes (Richard Oakes) (PRS)Editor: BMG Rights Management (PRS)Publicado em 2018 (23/Nov)ECAD verificado obra #18663324 e fonograma #17584133 em 23/Abr/2024