It's one o'clock on a friday morning I'm trying to keep my back from the wall The prophets and their bombs have had another success and I'm wondering why we bother at all
And I think of you on cold winter mornings, darling they remind me of when we were at school Nothing really mattered when you called at my name In fact nothing really mattered at all
And I'm thinking about how long it will take them to blow us away but I won't get me down I'm just thankful to be facing a day 'cause days don't get you far when you're gone
It's five o'clock on a friday morning One hundred telephones shake and ring One of them's from someone who knew you
Well I'll still think of you on cold winter mornings, darling they'll still remind me of when we were at school When they could never have persuaded me that lives like yours Were in the hands of these erroneous fools
And to those of you who moan your lives through one day to the next Well let them take you next Can't you live and be thankful you're here See it could be you tomorrow next year
Compositor: Fyfe Antony Dangerfield Hutchins ECAD: Obra #2059307 Fonograma #15432621