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I remember I lived in a small rented apartment,
All my money tied up in industry;
I remember that we used to put on Sinatra,
Cutting lines through the midnight hours.
Those were the golden days – I can’t see them returning,
People start to realise what that much excess does to you;
Changes you; makes you start to believe
That what goes up doesn’t have to come down!
Imagine if this was the second fall out of Eden.
But oh God, the fruit it just looked so ripe and tasty.
I don’t want to be remembered in the same red light as Adam.
I’ll spend my last days in seedy bars.
Drinking tequila, leaving bank notes in bras.
It’s not like anybody can stop this machine
By writing stupid slogans about thinking green.
I think back to those heady days
As I notice that the petrol count’s low.
I remember those hours listening to Sinatra
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
‘Couse it wouldn’t snow –
Mother Nature ain’t in the habit of doing what we tell her to.
Instead, it’s raining, it’s still raining demonstrating
That what goes up has to come down.
Imagine if this was the second fall out of Eden.
But oh God, the fruit it just looked so ripe and tasty.
I don’t want to be remembered in the same red light as Adam.
I’ll spend my last days in seedy bars.
Drinking tequila, leaving bank notes in bras.
It’s not like anybody can stop this machine
By writing stupid slogans about thinking green.
Ooh, did Narcissus put a spell on you?
Ooh, did you tell him that you wanted him to?
Ooh, you make me want to laugh
But I just can’t – these are serious words.
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