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Hot Club De Paris
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For Parties Past And Present
The crumpled phone number and the lullaby whir
Of the nearest laundrette reminds me of her
We're swimming with sharks, tide love and tough cooking
The impulsive streak of a streetwise rookie
She works alone
When I think of her, I see her dress
With the summer sewn into it's cotton checks
Ohh
She left relatively early, avoiding fidgeting fingers
And bedroom doors swinging on their hinges
The party downstairs was tired and torn
Sleeping on the floor with the curtains drawn
The sunlight peeped through the cracks
And what was left?
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Some aching hearts and some morning breath
The world outside sprang to life
We wrote 'Good morning' backwards in the condensation
All still high on our old supply
Like the kind of guys who never learn their lesson
A silhouette by the open front door
Ignored the voice that said to stay for one more
Left in shoes made for the night
And unsuitable in the glare of daylight
When I think of her in that dress
With the summer sewn into it's cotton checks
It seems a shame that I didn't try to catch her attention
To say good bye that time
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