Texty: Robyn Hitchcock. Flavour Of Light.

Long slender shadows, pulsating in windows
While feathery curtain hide fountains of eyes from the light
A different disease in another translation
Though you don't understand the familiar sensation

But who needs to talk
When you're caught in the flavor of night?
And you, yeah, you with your ice cream hands
You, yeah, you are my friend

All that you want could be happening for you
Just like the road that unrolls there before you, tonight
Eyes you don't trust but the fingers have beckoned
How long you got left? Well, how long do you reckon?

But who goes to waste
When they're tasting the flavor of night?
And you, yeah ,you with your ice cream hands
You, yeah, you are my friend