SubSuburbia (Pt.1)

He takes it all with a pinch of salt

Light on his feet, he leaves

Stark moonlight covers his town

And that old street lamp never will get fixed

Fifteen minutes past the launderette

And left at the tobacconists she lays

Passed out, fifteen years old on a pentagonal bench

With a birch tree growing up through the middle

This is Sub Suburbia

(Sub Suburbia)

(Sub Suburbia)