Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Waterboys
The Waterboys
Performer
Mike Scott
Mike Scott
Lead Vocals
Aongus Ralston
Aongus Ralston
Bass
Steve Wickham
Steve Wickham
Fiddle
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mike Scott
Mike Scott
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Puck Fingers
Puck Fingers
Producer
Brother Paul
Brother Paul
Producer
Mike Scott
Mike Scott
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

I had a basement flat Off Portobello Road In my cowboy hat Down the Grove I strode With my buckled boots And my blue striped pants I knew how to groove I didn't know how to dance I wore a teenage rockabilly Coat from Johnstons My head full of lyrics, wonder Love and magic, stuff and nonsense The counter-culture was fading But echoed everywhere Rastas promenading Reefer smoke on the air Behind my wooden door I'd blast out my sounds On my back on the floor With the lights all down Like Dorothy adrift In the land of Oz Sometimes I'd open my eyes And wonder where the hell I was I was in love with a girl I saw one afternoon Wearing duffle coat and pearls In the middle of June Nikki Sudden would call In his velvet and tat And sleep in my spare room And wear my spare hat As carnival approached The pot got stronger Reggae sound systems fired up On every crumbling street corner I remember a hot Sticky summer night I was in a sweet spot I was hungry to write The sound systems roared They made the houses shake My imagination soared And like a storm that breaks Savage Earth Heart Tumbled through my brain A bolt or a download From another wilder, higher plane Landlord sold my place Needed the cash I suppose And I left in haste The day between shows I packed everything up In one night, it's the truth Didn't even sleep That's the power of youth On the bus next morning And away we drove Never said a proper So long and thank you baby To my beloved Ladbroke Grove I tried moving back When an age had passed The stage was still intact Only with a different cast In a different play A whole new pantomime And I was just in the way And I was way out of time Some things I guess you Ain't meant to repeat I retired to lick my wounds And scheme again On some other street
Writer(s): Michael Scott Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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