Mary’s Market

I want a windless city in June
I want a walk down to the harbour
I want to play guitar like you
I want a saint to be my cellmate

I want the last dream to come true
A train in everyone’s back garden
A tunnel to the heart of you
A summer Sunday chiming of bodies brown

And the sleepy way you said my name
As you turn and read my fortune
And you pick up verses of ancient text
That were dripping with your legend

And you turned to me and said
"You know you’re blowing all your chances"
And I asked if there was time
You said that nothing was decided

You played me music I hadn’t heard
From a long lost eighties box set
And you cooked me dinner I never ate
And we washed up all our dishes

The sun was blinding the sky was dark
And the bells they kept on ringing
The rats were happy the mice were full
And there was something wrong with the plumbing

You showed me yesterday’s dress
The one you nicked from Mary’s Market
You tried to look like her
Cause you thought that I would like it

I like you better I like you loads
I like you unaffected
Take your eighties’ records your books by Joyce
And you can pack ‘em up for the summer

The wind was fooling again
And the sun thought about setting
You made the shadow shapes on the wall
You thought I wasn’t watching

The wind was messing again
And the sun thought about leaving
You made the dirty shapes on the wall
You thought I wasn’t watching

It was liberating, your puppet dance
It was our one true moment lasting
You took the slipper you took the pear
You made a still life out of nothing

It was liberating, your puppet dance
It was our one true moment lasting
You took the slipper you took the pear
You made a still life out of nothing, nothing

I want a windless city in June
I want a walk down to the shoreline
I want infinity in a girl
I want a song that kills me