Cakebrick road in summer 1981
We shared a house and garden
At the height of all the bombing on the run
In busy, hazy London

Through T-shirt breezes walking home from work
County Kilburn sun
Weekends we'd just wash away the dirt
Of busy, hazy London

The night grew cold
The Thames is old

Found that manners count for nothing and it took
A Welshman in his forties
Guinness elbows rest upon a tabletop
The two of us on earlies

Three feet of snow feel on the Walnut Road
Two feet trudged
Round the corner came
The sound of bad dreams

The flame is old
The Thames is cold

Cakebrick Road in summer 1981
We left a house and garden
On the corner boys
Best of friends