Nothing Cures Melancholy Like Looking at Maps

I put the pedal to the metal and I
Carry myself home again
And again, and again, and again, and again
With every repetition comes a new addition to my
Twenty-first-century map of proto-human history
That's where the kids threw the brick through our window
And that's the railway line that we used to climb

On consecutive Fridays (consecutive Fridays)
Free of consequence by the Purley Way
Just sunken friends on a drunken rooftop
Praying the police won't call on us

I was a natural blonde for three whole years
Hydrogen peroxide stained all I touched
All I touched
All I touched
All I touched
All I touched
Turned to gold while my brain turned off

On consecutive Fridays (consecutive Fridays)
Free of consequence by the Purley Way
Just sunken friends on a drunken rooftop
Praying the police won't call on us
On consecutive Fridays (consecutive Fridays)
Free of consequence by the Purley Way
Just sunken friends on a drunken rooftop
Praying the police won't call on us

We all sing the same old songs we just sing them different now
We all sing the same old songs we just sing them different now
We all sing the same old songs we just sing them different now
We all sing the same old songs we just sing them different now
Some actions will have consequences that will not become apparent
Until a time so far off I can't even begin to grasp it

On consecutive Fridays (consecutive Fridays)
Free of consequence by the Purley Way
Just sunken friends on a drunken rooftop
Praying the police won't call on us
On consecutive Fridays (consecutive Fridays)
Free of consequence by the Purley Way
Just sunken friends on a drunken rooftop
Praying the police won't call on us

Hi, Callum, it's just Iain returning your call
Just- er, hope you're okay. Bye!



Credits
Writer(s): George David Berry, Nicholas Peters, Callum Litchfield, Iain Joseph Gillespie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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