Ross Wilson, and G Smith
Flamingos walk, and sway in peace
Seeing this, it makes my troubles cease
The sun is hiding, leaving a pink scar
That stretches right across the sky
That's all we've seen so far
And all I do is look into your eyes
For that special touch of paradise
Just a touch, a touch of paradise
Just a special touch of paradise
You hold my hand, that's when we kiss
And it doesn't take long no, until I get the gist
Of this love that stretches out across the land
Where rainbows flash, as we're walking in the sand
And all I do is look into your eyes
A touch of spring, and autumn sweet
Well the trees vibrate when our eyes meet
And I think of all the love that we have been making
You touch my hand and I walk off shaking
And all I do is look into your eyesSmalltown, snoring under blankets
Woken by the clank
It's just the milkman's dawn round
Smalltown, hiding undercovers
The lodgers and the lovers
Are asleep 'round Smalltown
Shiney grey black snake of bikes
He slithers
Bearing up the men and boys
To work
We're standing in poplar lines
Making alarm clocks that'll wake our wives up
Don't ask us, we haven't the time
We're racing the hooter that'll signal life's up
Smalltown, crouching in the valley
Woken by the Sally Army
Sunday marchround
Smalltown, coughing in the toilet
Who on earth would spoil it
Would they pull down Smalltown?
If it's all the same to you
Mrs Progress
Think I'll drink my Oxo up
And get away
It's not that you're repulsive to see
In your brand new catalogue nylon nightie
You're too fast for little old me
Next you'll be telling me it's 1990
I have lived here for a thousand years or maybe more
And I've sheltered all the children who have fought the wars
And as payment they make love in me
In squeaky beds
In bicycle sheds
Inside of their heads
As singles and weds
As Tories and Reds
And that's how I'm fed
And that's how I'm fed
Smalltown, snoring under blankets
Woken by the clank
It's just the milkman's dawn round
Smalltown, hiding undercovers
The lodgers and the lovers
Are asleep 'round Smalltown
Smalltown, crouching in the valley
Woken by the Sally Army
Sunday marchround
Smalltown, coughing in the toilet
Now who on earth would spoil it
Will you pull down Smalltown
Smalltown
Smalltown