Mañana, Mañana

Hey, the shops are all closed,
Down this street where we walked, with the rain on our clothes,
And the air is so dry that my head starts to swim,
As a north wind flies by.

And it's Johnston Street, summertime, Pala cafes,
No money for beer, got no money for nothin',
Just rubbish bins to the brim, dirty brown children,
And postcards I got from the Mediterranean.

Yaña, mañana, tell me are you coming?
Should I put my back to it, work here nothin'?
Mañana, mañana tell my is it worth it,
To be here in this place, so low, so deserted?

And the cars just roll by,
Down this street where we walked, with a fire in our eyes,
But oh, we cannot see what has happened to you,
And what is happening to me.

In this summer of discontent, nothing but sadness,
No kiss in the morning, no Friday night madness,
Friends have gone down the beach, car is not running,
In Melbourne in summer seems no place for fun.

So Mañana, mañana, tell me are you coming?
Should I put my back to it, work here for nothin'?
Mañana, mañana, tell me is it worth it,
To be here in this place so low, so deserted?

And oh, did you think of me?
On a train down to Madrid, on a ferry to Crete,
And oh, was it a dream?
Your face in my night time somehow so complete.

Unlike Johnston Street, summertime, Pala cafes,
No money for beer, not no money for nothin',
Just rubbish bins to the brim, dirty brown children,
And post cards you sent me from the Mediterranean.

Yaña, mañana, Tell me are you coming?
Should I put my back to it, work here for nothing?
Mañana, mañana, tell me is it wortrh it,
To be here in Fitzroy, so low, so deserted?

Mañana, mañana, tell me are you coming?
Should I put my back to it, work here for nothin'?
Mañana, mañana, tell me is it worth?
To be here in Fitzroy so low, so deserted?