Back In Time

You stop in the old cafe where you used to play pinball

And look for the air-raid shelter but it's gone and the cafe seems so

small and all the gardens That had trees and stolen apples

now have small businesses flourishing in cinder blocks

Then they will call your name and hand you a gold watch

Then they will call your name but it doesn't sound like much

And you'll never discover why it's like an old lover

you can't touch anymore It doesn't mean much anymore

when you go back in time back in time

You head down to the local try to find a focal point

A scratch in the wallpaper but it's all been wallpapered over

Down at the newsagents it's all pornography

And you try to get high again but it's like time-lapse photography

Then they will call your name and hand you a medal

Or something more practical like a whistling kettle

and it'll test your metal Just try to keep grinning

knowing that this feeling is Indulgence worse than sinning

trying to go back in time

Photographs with a glossy finish letters lovers never finished

And there in a dusty drawer a necktie you once wore

And a girl you tried to court made you feel about two feet short

Where is she now today? What would she have to say?

Then they will call your name and hand you a pension

A bottle of pills that guarantee life extension

and give you a mention in the local boy makes good section

But all the old news is like print stains across your mind

when you go back in time

Yes all this old news is just print stains across your mind

when you go back in time, Back in time