Lips like semaphore to my heart we slither and slide and slip
Stings like aerosol in my eyes but nothing compares to this
And it's ever so plain and it's ever so clear for the strangers, the strangers
And it's ever so plain and it's ever so clear for all the strangers out there
Pips from oranges spat away to gutters and drains and bins,
Left like promises on a tray when you delivered yourself to him
And it's ever so plain...
...a paper trail on the road that was left for the gulls
and like the birds flying north it's been growing cold