Lights out, a provincial town
The stars can't escape...
the light on the ground
You're talking to the moon
You know your favourite subject...
is you
You're in denial, denial
Tomorrow if I ask you, ask you
Aaah
Blank is beautiful
Like the shapes you threw
The orchestra in your head plays the theme tune
Ran through the precinct
And no one looked in...
our direction
She made up her age
It's one picture I couldn't throw...
away
You can't even write your, write your name
You're nothing special, special
Aaah
Blank is beautiful
Like the shapes you threw
The orchestra in your head plays the theme tune
In spidery handwriting she outlines her escape
I suppose she's got her reasons
False memories, don't look for pier
All you'll find is...
Needles on the beaches
Sand and sunday(?) speeches
I'm never going back to Prestatyn again
Provincial girl
Provincial girl
(A couple of lines of something
sung indistictly here)