(small fraud)

And it starts with smarts; the old swap the pass routine I Know you know I'm not but still I caught yr eye and framed you against the last of the sun I fake my accent better than you fake straight faced Small fraud on the promenade but you still opened the gate door And I caught yr eye and framed you against the sun and you stayed burnt on my retinas till last orders Till the band finished, and the gate swung shut When see you next year doesn't cut it cos neither of us is that organised, ever that sure of our futurе So like, 20 rocks left of the piеr, and an hour, we'll be there, and we'll all hope some guy starts a fire THERE IS LITTLE SURE ABOUT THIS But you've seen our friends; it's less like romance, more like cold calling I've read yr resume, you look hotter with a beard and dances this old well, they're just ballet That place is ex-ballroom, even if nowadays we just shuffle our feet for the band O, what we've got planned, could possibly Never Happen We'll stumble along the beach in the dark Like waves under the boardwalk, roll with the tide Flotsam So anyway, I caught yr eye I caught yr eye and framed you against the sun I caught yr eye and framed you against the last of the sun on the promenade And you stayed burnt on my retinas all night So stumble across the seafront in the dark, looking for some guys stumbling along the seafront in the dark Waiting for some guy to start a fire Well if that sound dangerous, or something comes up; or you get lost, or I get lost, then don't take heart Don't hold this in some moping arched significance tomorrow or next year Some stories are just perfect left unfinished I'm just flattered I was in it