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 There's few who'll understand
What is mine and 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 hers? Do we fool ourselves With all those pretty words? Flytipping on the road with her
And I'll take you to the verges 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 The road's their playground
What is mine and 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 Do we fool ourselves With all this pretty stuff? Flytipping feels like just enough
And I'll take you to the verges By the nettles, by the roundabouts And I'll pick you wild roses In the tunnels by the underpassTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.