Текст песни Days In The Rain

Days in the rain Down to Josephine's house for tea French toast and Elvis French kisses for a boy called me Scrumping apples in Harrow Throwing fallers at black Austin cars Lemon-ices at De La Mura's Plotting my life by the stars And I remember the scent of my father's Christmas cigar Traces of lives Like gold -dust in a museum of rooms In the corner the black and white television blinking like a prophet of doom And I remember my father falling like a stone from the moon It's all in the past It's all in the photographs It all looks familiar, but we don't know the places We know that we love them But we cannot put names to the faces Those faces -- those beautiful faces Days in the rain Bruises and powerful scars I swollowed a sixpence Someone said: " Who'd you think you are? " And I remember the scent of my father's Christmas cigar