Woozy With Cider (Jon Hopkins Remix)

I watch the park quieten from the hotel window
I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds
For a city whose size had scared me for years
Right now its a feeble evening row
Not un-similar to a beach evening ending
On the table to my left theres a magazine with a picture of dead monkey
Making a mockery of what Id call art
But what would I know about the scene in the city
That has swallowed up friends, lovers and family
Just give me a village the size of a teacup
Youre happier here spread out with your eyes closed
I feel I should order a drink in celebration to welcome the summer
Whose first day is ending
Should you wake youd catch me of course
And ask me the wisdom of drinking once more
I cast me mind back to yesterdays wedding
Where we got drunk and fell over
I did my best to be polite to a family Id never met
But on numerous occasions, I guess, I could have tried harder
Of course by the end of the night
I was a best friend with everyone and every ones wife
But right now I couldnt remember their names
No matter how hard I try
As the sun glares through the hotel window
I wonder of our future and where it will lead to
I wonder if youll be laying there
10 years 20 years 30 years down the line
Ill still be staring out at the street confused about love and life
Itll be interesting to see if anyone ever bought those songs of mine
If anyone heard those words that I never got quite right
I think I can be honest in presuming
The world is not exactly going to be leaping out its bed
To make me rich using my songs in adverts
Selling oranges or lemons
Who knows I may end up owning the whole street
Or more likely sleeping under tree in the park opposite
Would the runners keep me awake
Or would I keep them asleep
Id hope I have the sense to move back home
As lovely as today is
Id imagine the winter would be rather cold
Id been told for years that the devil had the best tunes
And that the devil lived down here
Whereas us country folk werent worth the salt from the road
Ex pat magazine editors who choose to loose their temper
On the easily persuaded northern town dwellers
And sure enough 99 percent of the people I meet
Have scant regard for entertaining me
It seems Im too old too slow too quiet and just wrong
And Im glad
In their c*****e fuelled electronic cabarets
Ill be the man at the bar drinking overpriced whiskey
From a bar maid whos to good to catch my eye
She only works here two nights a week
The rest of the time shes a singer in a rock and roll band
I bet shed change her tune
If I told her my album had peaked at number 172
And that I also had friends who worked in bars
And that didnt define who they are
Though it certainly helps their capacity to drink
But Ive strayed off the subject
Now Ill be leaning over and waking you up
And youll squint at me through the cracks between your eyelids
Woozy with cider
As if youre asking exactly where we are
And exactly what I wanted
And Ill be happy because
We wont be taking anything too seriously