(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