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Railway lines, with the grass growing over,

drown the country lights in drunken blue.

In mid December, we'd curse the weather,

by the old canal where I'd walk with you.

And we'd wonder, when our lives would begin.

We'd warm up our hands, and we'd roll up another,

no-one goes to school today, you see they'd rather do nothing.

Just sit and wonder, when will our lives begin ?

Now the old town has given way to something,

it's uncomfortable to think I'm missing you.

But I still remember, that mid December

by the old canal, where I'd walk with you.

And we'd wonder, when would our lives begin ?

 

 

 

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