The Tangent

Lost In London (25 Years Later)
For some strange reason we decided to talk about sex
It was a Wednesday it was half past nine
The conversation just seemed to wander there,
Besides we'd done prog two million times
I met the teenage boy in you I never knew was there,
And caught a glimpse of festivals when you had longer hair

We're stranded outside a Soho jazz club now
Neither of us has a mobile phone
The guy we need see is just inside the door
But the might as well still be in Malmo
We talk about our kids a bit and wish that we were them
And hard back to our younger days again

Somewhere in this leering city there beats a heart (I'm told)
And Ian and I keep trying to find it on two very different roads
It seems that no-one even sees us, the kids just seem so cold
So please send your answers on a postcard...
Are me and Ian old?

Some sleazy guy just sidles up beside us and says:
'Hello lads, you looking for someone for a good time?'
He looks quite puzzled when I say 'yeah... Krister Jonsson'
'Cos that's not what he had in mind
And I feel just like a fool as we head into the tube
But suddenly we're laughing all the way home

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