Brunswick Lyrics

Brunswick lyrics

(Thomas) In the summer all the old men, they sit on their front porches, While
the women comb their hair, shell their peas And wonder what they've missed. And
the forlorn children scan the streets For wayward dogs, with fading torches.
It's no amazing sight, it's something that I miss. I still hear the trucks as
they crunch their gears going through the lanes, And curse all folk who get
stuck in their way And the roaring forklift starting up At 7am of a weekday
morning How I cursed them then, now I see things another way. And if I see
things through a hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime? When I ain't been to
Brunswick for a long long time. There was a kind word you could get >From the
man who ran the milk bar, And a rough one from the old bloke Who lived across
the road, and though The footpaths stank with the refuse Of overfed Alsatians,
The air was rife with Tip Top Bread, The baker's morning load. And if I see
things through a hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime? When I ain't been to
Brunswick for a long long time. And there's a cottage I think of, Sometimes
when I've been drinking, And in the bottom of my glass, I see a life I've
missed, Of summer walks and well trained dogs And plenty of time for thinking.
So just don't bother asking why the hell I'm always pissed. But if I see things
through a hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime? When I ain't been to
Brunswick, No I ain't been to Brunswick, I ain't been nowhere near it for a
long long time.