Transatlantic Cable Songtext

von Furniture

When the boom was on
And your name was up in shuddering light
Whether you see it through the sights on a horn
Or the bottom of a glass, it's still the night
You hear a six-piece section harmonising with the traffic's din
And from your vantage point in a limousine, you think you're in

Any sleazy café
Any bar or dive you play
They'd come from near and far
To hear the jive you played
Although these days your true blue notes don't mean a thing
You can still recall the time
When you were king
You hear it now
I'm in here by myself

So what is there for me?
You know the memories you hand me
We're a whole Atlantic apart
You don't begin to understand me
If I was to tell you what my life is like
In this two bit English town
Oh Christ I wouldn't know two bits if they tried to
Run me down

Where I come from
All that stuff is just romantic talk
Movie slang for TV cops
Heroic ways to walk
It's all words
Words we use to decorate the drab
America's just one big Big Mac
Seen from a yellow cab
That's all it is
Suffocating clichés
(And the phone keeps ringing)
I've never shot the tube but I've ridden on the underground
(But I won't answer)
I've never even seen a real gun
You've got a shell hole in your back
(There's no one out there)
You've got romance
I've got an average of seven more years to live, sucker
(There's no one out there)
This is my transatlantic cable
Coming in on the wire