Englishman in Moscow
Someone come along and take the years away
Ahay, he hates who you’ve become
You know your, your heavy heart
Weighs down the sun
He stumbles on
And so he sleeps inside all day
The weekend weather leaves a stain
And so he clambers out of bed
Your big white eyes are going red
Are going red
You make it easy not to live
With blue velour and plastic sieves
And sing a song to fill the time
It takes so long to take your mind
To take your mind
And now she’s seeing you again
You’re looking worse at half past ten
And now he’s nowhere to be seen
Thinking how things could have been
Well things could have been
Oh so clean, if you think you’re
An Englishman in Moscow to me
Just Englishman in Moscow to me
