Тексты песен The Clientele

There's a carnival on 7th Street People moving everywhere, now shake your feet But a shadow falls across the sun And you could be just anyone The trains arrive, the roses bloom There's nothing in the

Mrs Jones and I were dreaming of the moon On Wednesday afternoons without a cloud And the mirage of a suburb in the rain On a train and drifting down Oh Miss Lloyd your smiling eyes are in my mind Hol