When I was growing up there was always a pub at the end of the road. It was your local.
At about nine o’clock when everyone had got a bit merry, you began to sing. Everybody did it. It was incredibly communal. You could walk up the main road where there was a pub on every corner and it would be a cacophony of singing.
- Terence Davies
1 comment:
Hate New York City
It's cold and it's damp
And all the people dressed like monkeys
Let's leave Chicago to the Eskimos
That town's a little bit too rugged
For you and me you bad girl
Rollin' down the Imperial Highway
With a big nasty redhead at my side
Santa Ana winds blowin' hot from the north
And we as born to ride
Roll down the window put down the top
Crank up the Beach Boys baby
Don't let the music stop
We're gonna ride it till we just can't ride it no more
From the South Bay to the Valley
From the West Side to the East Side
Everybody's very happy
'Cause the sun is shining all the time
Looks like another perfect day
I telecommute to L.A. (We telecommute to it)
I telecommute to L.A. (We telecommute to it)
Look at that mountain
Look at those trees
Look at that bum over there, man
He's down on his knees
Look at these women
There ain't nothin' like 'em nowhere
Century Boulevard (We telecommute to it)
Victory Boulevard (We telecommute to it)
Santa Monica Boulevard (We telecommute to it)
Sixth Street (We telecommute to it, we telecommute to it)
I telecommute to L.A.
I telecommute to L.A.
(We telecommute to it)
Post a Comment