Painters Paint - The High Llamas

They stumble about

The lobby bears the name

Forgotten inside the hour

And what they became

The painters paint all those sad old saints

Take the dust sheet down in this old theme town

A feel for the sea

Does not appeal to me

And winter’s not cold enough

Like it’s meant to be

The painters paint all those sad old saints

Take the dust sheet down in this old theme town

The painters paint all those sad old saints

Take the dust sheet down in this old theme town

Now we’re spoiled for choice

Came the trooper’s voice

Take an endless guess

At my friendliness