I Spy Dogs

James Yorkston

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    I can feel your ribs, but that's no complaint
    So go and shoot for the moon, and I'll just wait
    In cafes past, carry on

    And I spy dogs, at some we laugh
    Do you remember the price, of those beers?
    Though they couldn't play, they couldn't even play

    And we laughed, and hid behind books
    We could not read, although we looked the part
    And had another, we couldn't even speak

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    And he saw our foreign looks, and he cursed
    Yeh the rhythm sucked, and his equipment fucked
    Carry on

    And he knows this cannot last, and dreams he's far away
    Dreams he's far away
    And if he got himself a mask, could he really fly away
    Could he really fly away?

    And he hurled, a coarse insult
    At our smiles, although we meant no harm
    Yeh we were just in france, carrying on

    Song details

    Composition: James Yorkston

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