Arlington house, address: no fixed abode
An old man in a three-piece suit sits in the road
He stares across the water, he sees right through the lock
But on and up like outstretched hands
His mumbled words, his fumbled words, mock
Further down, a photo booth, a million plastic bags
And an old woman filling out a million baggage tags
But when she gets thrown out, three bags at a time
She spies the old chap in the road to share her bags with
She has bags of time
Surrounded by his past, on a short white line
He sits while cars pass either side, takes his time
Trying to remember one better day
A while ago when people stopped to hear him say
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
Now she has walked enough through rainy town
She rests her bag against his and sits down
She's trying to remember one better day
A while ago when people stopped to hear her say
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose
An old man in a three-piece suit sits in the road
He stares across the water, he sees right through the lock
But on and up like outstretched hands
His mumbled words, his fumbled words, mock
Further down, a photo booth, a million plastic bags
And an old woman filling out a million baggage tags
But when she gets thrown out, three bags at a time
She spies the old chap in the road to share her bags with
She has bags of time
Surrounded by his past, on a short white line
He sits while cars pass either side, takes his time
Trying to remember one better day
A while ago when people stopped to hear him say
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
Now she has walked enough through rainy town
She rests her bag against his and sits down
She's trying to remember one better day
A while ago when people stopped to hear her say
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose
Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes
The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose
inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 11/5/2019 - 11:39
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Scritta da Graham McPherson
Singolo estratto dall'album dei Madness intitolato "Keep Moving"
Testo trovato su Genius
"We grew up in Thatchers Britain BUT we had some great and politically aware bands and not the X Fucktor manufactured shit. Where are the new movement bands. We had The Specials, UB40, Madness and many more. The voice of disenchanted youth. It saddens me that there is none if that. Christ, even simply red were political." (commento di jools Pirog su YouTube)
Il video fu girato in Arlington Road a Camden Town, Londra, dove ha sede la Arlington House, storico ostello per gli homeless attivo dal 1905... Vi soggiornarono anche George Orwell e Brendan Behan.