A rickety lament for the futility of trying to recapture lost youth. From the album Your Smile Is Made Of Vanished Days.
David - Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Bass, Telecaster, Casio Piano, Glockenspiel, Boss DR-500, Casiotone MT-65, Microcassette Dictaphone, Reel-to-Reel, Sleighbells, String Synth
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Please un-rake all the leaves and quietly lose everything
Who's there to process the film when you die?
(Undeveloped and unseen)
In this broken building where your lungs were born
Leave 'em here to decompose with the kettle on
We're all forgotten hospitals anyway;
Long nostalgic corridors of fading paint
With a burning sadness
Raise a toast to the ghost of nuclear winter
When they broke your heart
Behind those sad and salty seafront facades
(Below the raucous static of the gulls above)
In a broken tape machine
The hijacked hallowed days
Of torn up skater jeans and acne speckled honesty
Are captured but can never be replayed
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