Seven (Nic Chacona Strobelight mix)

I've got a friend who I've known since I was seven

We used to talk on the phone, if we have time, if it's the right time

Accompany me by the kitchen sink

We talk about love, we talk about dishwasher tablets, illness

And we dream about heaven

I know it, I think I know it from a hymn

They've said so, it doesn't need more explanation

A box to open up with light and sound

Making you cold

Very cold

I leave home at seven

Under a heavy sky, I ride my bike up, I ride my bike down

November smoke and your toes go numb

A new colour on the Globe

It goes from white to red, a little voice in my head says oh, oh, oh

I know it, I think I know it from a hymn

They've said so, it doesn't need more explanation

A box to open up with light and sound

And if you don't

You're on your own