Saint Etienne
Like A Motorway
Transcribed by Mark Dorset
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
She wears sad jeans / torn at the waistband. /
Her pretty face / is stained with tears. /
And in her right hand / she clasps a letter; /
I know this means / that he has gone. /
And in this town / of mis-guided tourists, /
she never thought / she`d fall in love. /
It was a few days / after her birthday, /
The thrill hostess / gave her first kiss. /
He said her skin / smelled just like petals, /
said stupid things / he knew she`d like. /
She said her life / was like a motorway: /
Dull, grey, and long / `til he came along. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
I said "How could / he ever leave you' /
You two were good, / you were so right." /
She said "I wish / that he just left me; /
He`d be alive, / alive tonight." /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone.
Like A Motorway
Transcribed by Mark Dorset
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
She wears sad jeans / torn at the waistband. /
Her pretty face / is stained with tears. /
And in her right hand / she clasps a letter; /
I know this means / that he has gone. /
And in this town / of mis-guided tourists, /
she never thought / she`d fall in love. /
It was a few days / after her birthday, /
The thrill hostess / gave her first kiss. /
He said her skin / smelled just like petals, /
said stupid things / he knew she`d like. /
She said her life / was like a motorway: /
Dull, grey, and long / `til he came along. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
I said "How could / he ever leave you' /
You two were good, / you were so right." /
She said "I wish / that he just left me; /
He`d be alive, / alive tonight." /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone. /
He`s gone, / he`s gone.