Killing Time (1st draft)

In the bowels of the studio, there you'll find me I'm on my own
Watching the world clock on by, a coffee in hand and a fading smile
I'm killing time
I'm killing time
I'm very good, at killing time

I wear this city like a coat
It keeps me warm, sharp minded in the cold
I'm drinking in every bar
Danced at every club that I've found so far
And I want to walk down every road
Take every short cut, every long route home
As long as you're there to tell me where I'm going
They teach me your arms are my one true home

And I say Grey, don't look at me that way
You're a monument
To the monumental excitement of a city on the cusp of revival
And a wave from the mucky angel at the gates of the Haymarket
Tells you that you're home if you're coming in down from the north

Let's go back to Pink Lane where it started for some
Save me a seat at the Cumberland, we'll drink till we roll to the Ouseburn
Byker Bridge pulls me back to relive existential crisis, throw my stars to the valley floor

And to think I nearly left it all behind
How many more times will London steal a northern mind?
300 Miles in 21 days to bring my poet to me again
And my boots will walk me from the end to the start
It took 13 years to unbreak my heart

And I say Grey, don't look at me that way
You're a monument
To the monumental excitement of a city on the cusp of uprising
And I if had your spot
Right at the very top, best view of the city down to the Tyne across open country

And I say Grey, don't look at me that way
You're a monument
To the monumental excitement of a city on the cusp of uprising
And I if had your spot
Right at the very top, best view of the city down to the Tyne across open country
Across open country

Down by the Tyne, that's where you'll find me most of the time
Watching the river wash on by, a pen in my hand but the ink ran dry
I'm killing time
I'm killing time
I'm very good at killing time