I still get a whiff of that aroma now and then...
Burglary and fireworks, the skies they were alighting.
Accidents and toffee drops and thinking on the train..
Summertime made promises it knew it couldn’t keep,
the fairytale was climbing up a mountain far too steep.
Colour in the pictures with your royal hands,
now I am craving heartbreak while you’re making your demands...
Oh he was young in the frost,
No regard for the cost of saying his feelings in moments they were felt.
And if he was calm like you...
Locked up inside of your loops then he’d know full well,
that all he had to say was;
all he had to say was goodbye."
- Alex Turner. how do you always know?
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