Like a motorway

He's gone, / he's gone. /

She wears sad jeans / torn at the waistband. /
Her pretty face / is stained with tears. / And in her right hand /
she clasps a letter; / I know this means / that he has gone. /

And in this town / of mis-guided tourists, / she never thought /
she'd fall in love. / It was a few days / after her birthday, /
The thrill hostess / gave her first kiss. /

He said her skin / smelled just like petals, /
said stupid things / he knew she'd like. / She said her life /
was like a motorway: / Dull, grey, and long / 'til he came along. /

He's gone, / he's gone. /

I said "How could / he ever leave you? / You two were good, /
you were so right." / She said "I wish / that he just left me; /
He'd be alive, / alive tonight." /

He's gone, / he's gone. / He's gone, /
he's gone. / He's gone, / he's gone/.

{Music}
Saint Etienne - Like a motorway (alternate)