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Paul Kelly - Indie 2000, Volume 7 - Every Fucking City
Indie 2000, Volume 7
Disc 1
01. Yellow
02. Bohemian Like You
03. Slave to the Wage
04. Damage
05. Pacifier
06. Dirty Jeans
07. Teenager of the Year
08. Teenage Dirtbag
09. Porcelain
10. The Time Is Now
11. Music Is My Radar
12. Wasting My Life
13. Start Making Sense
14. Set the Record Straight
15. Goodbye
16. Secrets
17. Catch the Sun
18. Music Non Stop
19. Drive
20. King of the DJ’s
21. Too Big for Your Boots
Disc 2
01. Renegades of Funk
02. Picture in the Mirror
03. Fall to the Ground
04. Nothing’s Wrong
05. Please Leave
06. Make Me Bad
07. Every Fucking City
08. Wonderful
09. Sunken Eyes
10. Crush the Losers
11. The Best Things
12. Stellar
13. Killing the Fly
14. Holiday
15. Go Let It Out
16. My Way Home
17. Charlie’s Angels 2000
18. Never Gonna Come Back Down
19. Size Does Matter
20. B.O.B.
21. Mind Bomb
We argued on the channel train to Paris
The vin rouge helped us make it sweet again
But by the time that we got down to Lyon
Everything I said was wrong and you cursed me in the rain
We split up for a while in Barcelona
We met up six days later in Madrid
I was hoping that the break would make things go a little better for us
And for a little while it almost did
Now I'm in a bar in Copenhagen
And i'm trying hard to forget your name
And I'm staring at the label on a bottle of cerveza
And every fucking city feels the same

You said to call you when I got to London
A French girl told me that you'd left a note
I said to her "I like your accent" and she thought I sounded funny
So we ended up drinking in Soho
Foolishly I followed you to Dublin
Like a ghost I walked the streets of Temple Bar
And all the bright young things were throwing up their Guinness in the gutters
And once I thought I saw you from afar
Now I'm in a nightclub in Helsinki
And they're playing La Vida Loca once again
And I can't believe I'm dancing to this crap but I'm a chance here
And every fucking city sounds the same

At a cafe in the port of Amsterdam
An E-mail from you said you'd gone to Rome
For a minute I thought maybe but my funds were running low
And anyway it sounded like you weren't alone
So I headed north until I got to Hamburg
A chilly city suits a troubled soul
And on the Reeperbahn I paid a woman far too much
To kick me out before I'd even reached my goal
Now I'm in a restaurant in Stockholm
And the waiter here wants me to know his name
And I can order sandwiches in seven different languages
But every fucking city looks the same
Arrivederci, au revoir, auf Wiedersehen, hasta la vista baby
Yeah, every fucking city's just the same