Today the world is waking up. (repeated)
You said it felt like California walking down the 
streets and your garden felt like France when I lay in 
the cut grass. The garden that two months ago was white 
and shivering under snow. I stare up at your face from 
behind sunglasses. Upside down your smiles pull frowns.

Last night was one of the last suburban parties. The 
great suburban parties. Where we all spill out like 
cards from sleeves and loiter the drive and piss on the 
street. No magic here, though Spring burns in, no magic 
here. Though Spring burns in.

Hootie was hung in the tree and hooting like an owl, a 
drunken image sketched in leaves. He was wearing girls 
clothes and the same old faces, turning pale are 
haunting the garden and haunting my mind, a premonition 
for some other time. This is last time i remember 
thinking.

Bands edged into corners near conservatories and 
sweating walls, broken doors, smashed glasses and legs 
lined up on sofas. Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl, 
boy, girl. This is the last time, I remembered 
thinking. That fabulous neglect for glasses, no cup, no 
mug, no jug tooth rot all sucked from bottles and hoods 
indoors pulled up. We'll be investing in property and 
drinking properly, this is allÂ…this is allÂ…a mental 
bank.

My mental bank is overdrawn.

Well, let's think about May Day, a year ago. Last May, 
when walking up through South Park, the funfair was 
waking up. MY bloody valentine, my bloody valentine. My 
bloody valentine, my bloody valentine. He's no-one. He 
isn't yours or mine. My bloody valentine, my bloody 
valentine. My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine. 
He's no-one. He isn't yours or mine. My bloody 
valentine, my bloody valentine.

sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind. My 
bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.

You don't have to work at HMV when you write so 
beautifully. x3

sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind.

My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.

Sometimes, sometimes you cast a spell in my mind.

My bloody valentine, my bloody valentine.


You don't have to work in H.M.V.