North Circular-Real Lies

North Circular - Real Lies You're tired like a dog in the rain Bag on my shoulder and a pocket full of change To buses' mercy in the early morning light What did you do on Saturday night? Please take me back to where I used to be The road we used to share together, you and me I can’t say if we’re right or true or wrong All I can say is I know where I belong Post ties, family, white lines, and The Irish Times The men who drink in a roll pubs and raid flyers All lost in the same sea I hear them say it’s all yours, maestro if you just give in to me Give in to me Suicide bridge in that morning watch The roll fumes and fake wires and things that pick up and kick off And the roar of the spit on the road, it's essential reservation The rapturous players at the petrol station I love the smell of the fumes coming through the window But you always rolled the window up So I’ll have a cigarette and play with the crescendo I never knew but I had to give her (it?) up These days on the wrong side of the window Thought I saw your place, you didn’t let me in, though These days I say sorry a lot more Never sure if it’s the bailiffs at the door But I still walk the same road at night Watch the same rain melt the same lights Bag on my shoulder and a pocket full of rage How many late nights does it take you to change? Always thought you are holding me back but But it turns out you were just holding me together Make your move, 'cause I'm big time, crash and burn I worked for years in the hills, never hero Suicide bridge in that morning watch The roll fumes and fake wires and things that pick up and kick off And the roar of the spit on the road, it's essential reservation The rapturous players at the petrol station Come down off the hill, the lights in the distance glimmering Will shine a light for me and a little for you, too Or so I thought Or so I thought These days on the wrong side of the window Thought I saw your place, you didn’t let me in, though These days I say sorry a lot more Never sure if it’s the bailiffs at the door But I still walk the same streets at night Watch the same rain melt the same lights Bag on my shoulder and a pocket full of rage How many late nights does it take you to change?