Nearly 17, sat in Ealing Broadway
The pictures on the screen doing nothing for me
Don’t know what to do, my heart was just dropping
Thinking about something and it ain’t fucking shopping

Beneath a star-strangled sky in the Tesco car park
The world we found was funny strange and funny ha-ha
Cometbus our laureate, isolation the dictum
Learning fast that fact can be stranger than fiction

Familiarity is just a lie
To kill the wonder in our minds

The romance of a bus stop in the rain
This dye’s leaked from my hair into my brain
Nothing’s ever boring, nothing’s plain
I’ll never see the world that way again

Zone 3 into Soho with the same old faces
The Intrepid closed at 11 but those nights were endless
Bus home through the streets of our suburban wasteland
It’s like the driver’s driving just for us alone

The romance of a bus stop in the rain...