Cakebrick road in summer 1981 We shared a house and garden At the height of all the bombing on the run In busy, hazy London

 

Through T-shirt breezes walking home from work County Kilburn sun Weekends we'd just wash away the dirt Of busy, hazy London

 

The night grew cold The Thames is old

 

Found that manners count for nothing and it took A Welshman in his forties Guinness elbows rest upon a tabletop The two of us on earlies

 

Three feet of snow feel on the Walnut Road Two feet trudged Round the corner came The sound of bad dreams

 

The flame is old The Thames is cold

 

Cakebrick Road in summer 1981 We left a house and garden On the corner boys Best of friends