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It's the coldest night of the year in our town.
Here at the back of the night they don't even bother to advertise.
Warm and softly brutalised by sweet saturation.
We turn our backs on the world outside for higher considerations,
Like the lies we believed because we wanted to.
Unfair or unfortunate?
'Coz there are lies you believe because you wish them true
All the lies you believed because you wanted to,
Yeah there's chickens coming home
This station's closed.
Paul Mulreany & I were on the tube. Angel Station was still closed for repairs, long after the date for re-opening. Angel Station's still closed... said Mulreany (as you do) and a seed was planted in my brain. Top Bobby Gillespie impression, though.
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