(La réalité est ce qui continue lorsqu'on cesse d'y croire)
Looking out my bedroom window, see the planes take off from Heathrow, one by one they come and go.. On and on, on and on. I think about the places I'd go, think about this place i call home.. All the shots and all the con, all around , all around. Red light blinking in the twilight, tracing out a path right out of hear and now. Baby baby, I think its time we move on now. Don't you think its quiet around here? Doesn't seem so much to do here? Think back to this time last year.. Good times, good times, good times. Don't you think we've stayed far too long? Don't you think the colour has gone? Get on a plane it can't be wrong.. Moving on, moving on. Baby baby, I think its time we move on now. Dance floors are empty, clubs have all closed down. Nothings going on round here, its time we left town. Got a feeling my love, we've got to get out before it brings us down...