Mary's Market

I want a windless city in June

I want a walk down to the harbour

I want to play guitar like you

I want a saint to be my cellmate

I want the last dream to come true

A train in everyone’s back garden

A tunnel to the heart of you

A summer Sunday chiming of bodies brown

And the sleepy way you said my name

As you turn and read my fortune

And you pick up verses of ancient text

That were dripping with your legend

And you turned to me and said

"You know you’re blowing all your chances"

And I asked if there was time

You said that nothing was decided

You played me music I hadn’t heard

From a long lost eighties box set

And you cooked me dinner I never ate

And we washed up all our dishes

The sun was blinding the sky was dark

And the bells they kept on ringing

The rats were happy the mice were full

And there was something wrong with the plumbing

You showed me yesterday’s dress

The one you nicked from Mary’s Market

You tried to look like her

Cause you thought that I would like it

I like you better I like you loads

I like you unaffected

Take your eighties’ records your books by Joyce

And you can pack ‘em up for the summer

The wind was fooling again

And the sun thought about setting

You made the shadow shapes on the wall

You thought I wasn’t watching

The wind was messing again

And the sun thought about leaving

You made the dirty shapes on the wall

You thought I wasn’t watching

It was liberating, your puppet dance

It was our one true moment lasting

You took the slipper you took the pear

You made a still life out of nothing

It was liberating, your puppet dance

It was our one true moment lasting

You took the slipper you took the pear

You made a still life out of nothing, nothing

I want a windless city in June

I want a walk down to the shoreline

I want infinity in a girl

I want a song that kills me