The Other Seven

The voice of the great british beat boom

Is now holed up in barcelona

Singing one song in eight

In a ballroom called la paloma

Before the other seven

He's bored as hell

Distracted drinking

Out of step

And out of time

He talks to the sax player behind

And he gestures wildly at him

And accuses him

Of drinking too much

And playing out of time

"arriva!"

Our indestructible friendship

Now lives in another country

We were like blood for 10 years

We'd see each other

Every single day

For the other seven

I met you twice a year

And if i left it up to you

I'd never even see you

You know i'm selfish

I like to do the arranging

And then start complaining

You never even ring me

And just for an instant

Our eyes meet across the room

And he's not really sure

If he recognises me

Turns confused and finds it

And has another drink

And the other seven

Turn their blind eyes

'cos when he sings

It's like nothing has ever changed

It's like he's grabbed the hands of time

And held on for dear life

Until he started to unwind

And took him back 20 years

But he knows that it's too late

It's too late

It's too late