Lyrics:
surprise
It was the jinx of Finchley Road
She read me the cards as we sat
Under that troubadour moon
The strangest of artefacts
So cold in the dark of her
When I see the summer rain, I wanna run and see you praying
These tears, tell me, there's no way, down on Finchley Road
The day is done, he took
Finchley Central is two and sixpence
From Golders Green on the Northern Line
And on the platform, by the kiosk
That's where you said you'd be
dagenham Heathway
Elephant & Castle richmond
Sloane Square becontree
Brixton barbican
Chorleywood amersham
Eastcote alperton
East Finchley
(sung) kenton
a driver
And finally
It has no wheels
The bus 13 must be lucky for me
The bus 13 isn't going to North Finchley
The bus 13 is full of aliens just like me
Something like Tobacco Road
Living on a lonely road
I will pull you out of there
We will go to Finchley Fair
I will buy a feather hat
I will
good times
Don't wanna burn up with other people's bad times
Like a meteor
Like to meet yer
The weekend's here the Finchley Boys
Are gonna
to Hagney
East Finchley Apache
Verse 2
Mega:
Spit in Juan, when you see that link is on
Got the linkest charm, by the time you blink it's gone
Ayo, I run for
At the age of twenty three
I followed you unwittingly
To Finchley Road from my front door
We're playing at the Troubador
And now you smashed it out
of the Blue, swell of the Blue Lion
There's Scamping Ned who without dread
On Finchley takes the air, sir
With female friends his booty spends
To this place
On a park bench
By the Finchley underground
I can hear you
In the sweet sad sounds of Japan
Over somebody's headphones
There's an oak tree
It's like
times
Don't wanna burn up with other people's bad times
Like a meteor
Like to meet yer
The weekend's here the Finchley Boys
Are gonna make a lot of noise
to Finchley Road
Feels like my head is goin' to explode
The rain is dancing out on the street
The woman beside me's asleep in her seat
Think I'll go, go get
On a park bench
By the Finchley Underground
I can hear you
In the sweet, sad sounds of Japan
Over somebody's headphones
There's an oak tree
Like
at Bushy Heath
And Finchley central too
We even took a detour
Down to Waterloo
Now I miss my baby
Like I miss my sweet sweet wine
And I'm riding tired
at Finchley station
You wear a trenchcoat like a dirty pervert
And your keys are covered in horse sherbert
Calm down mate, he's not worth it
He's got his fist
Walking back through Finchley
Saw some blazer boys dancing at a garden party
Drinking chilled white wine by the marquee
And I wouldn’t wanna dance
bub's got me wheezing
I keep it gritty from Finchley to thugs up in Neasden
Wrist glist, great charm, big whip, Range long
See me on the strip wit' them
Well I just said, you know, I wanted a tidy trim. Just looks a bit shit round the back. It was the Greek bloke actually, on Finchley Road. Yeah, when I
Something like Tobacco Road
Living on a lonely road
I will pull you out of there
We will go to Finchley Fair
I will buy a feather hat
I will
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