madness
one better day
Arlington house, address: no fixed abode An old man in a three-piece suit sits in the road He stares across the water, he sees right through the lock But on and up like outstretched hands His mumbled words, his fumbled words, mock  Further down, a photo booth, a million plastic bags And an old woman filling out a million baggage tags But when she gets thrown out, three bags at a time She spies the old chap in the road to share her bags with She has bags of time  Surrounded by his past, on a short white line He sits while cars pass either side, takes his time Trying to remember one better day A while ago when people stopped to hear him say  Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes  Now she has walked enough through rainy town She rests her bag against his and sits down She's trying to remember one better day A while ago when people stopped to hear her say  Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose  Walking round you sometimes hear the sunshine Beating down in time with the rhythm of your shoes The feeling of arriving when you've nothing left to lose 