"Like A Motorway" by Saint Etienne

Transcribed by Mark Dorset


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.