Home-Made Films

Do you remember the thrill?
A midnight cocktail of fear and skill
Under the moon on a field
Back in the shit-hole where our love was real

Oh, the touch is the same but in a rougher frame
Oh, from leather and jeans, to diapers and cracking knees

The bungled streets we used to roam
As the child of a mother and the parents of none

Sit for a coffee, and remembering lovely times
When the night used to crumble with our juvenile roar

You learned to fly, but shared the sky alone
For much you try, you'll never go back home
It's all the same, but so much changed since then
And now it's all been saved in
Silver screens of prime-time home-made films

As simple life used to taste
With visions of Paris, rain and champagne

And since we departed our wrecked old ways
Turned to the void and grown in a grave
But, you never lost that spark
That certain something that glows in the dark

AS much as we hate it
We all do the same
Run way back home
At any chance we can

You learned to fly, but shared the sky alone
For much you try, you'll never go back home
It's all the same, but so much changed since then
And now it's all been saved in
Silver screens of prime-time home-made films

You learned to fly, but shared the sky alone
For much you try, you'll never go back home
It's all the same, but so much changed since then
And now it's all been saved in
Silver screens of prime-time home-made fil-