Frank Turner - Sweet Albion Blues lyrics
[Frank Turner - Sweet Albion Blues lyrics]
I came down from Newcastle town
To the part of the south coast
That I love the most
I was stretched out tight after
A couple of nights going crazy in Glasgow
I think you all know how that goes
I needed some peace, somewhere to stand still
Through the Cotswold hills down
To Portland Bill and to charge up my
Batteries for next weekend
Where I'd be cruising through Cardiff
And ending up in Southend
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
I met a guy from Cornwall
Who'd never left the county
I told him about the big smoke
I don't think he believed me
I told him about the scene along
The south coast to Kent
Across the estuary to East Anglia
And then I think he knew what I meant
A man is bored of life if
He's bored of these islands
All creation is here from
Hythe to the Highlands
The Black Country witnessed
My basest predations and the road up to Hull
Is paved with wicked intentions
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
All across the hills and valleys
From the A roads to the seas
The suburbs lead up to the cities
And that's where you'll find me
Go mad in Manchester wind down in Winchester
Roaming the home counties where
The parties are free
Circling London like dirt round
A storm drain and
Somewhere near Holborn's the heart
Of the beast
Don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
Sweet Albion around me everywhere I go
Sweet Albion surround me
You're everything I know
To the part of the south coast
That I love the most
I was stretched out tight after
A couple of nights going crazy in Glasgow
I think you all know how that goes
I needed some peace, somewhere to stand still
Through the Cotswold hills down
To Portland Bill and to charge up my
Batteries for next weekend
Where I'd be cruising through Cardiff
And ending up in Southend
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
I met a guy from Cornwall
Who'd never left the county
I told him about the big smoke
I don't think he believed me
I told him about the scene along
The south coast to Kent
Across the estuary to East Anglia
And then I think he knew what I meant
A man is bored of life if
He's bored of these islands
All creation is here from
Hythe to the Highlands
The Black Country witnessed
My basest predations and the road up to Hull
Is paved with wicked intentions
So don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
All across the hills and valleys
From the A roads to the seas
The suburbs lead up to the cities
And that's where you'll find me
Go mad in Manchester wind down in Winchester
Roaming the home counties where
The parties are free
Circling London like dirt round
A storm drain and
Somewhere near Holborn's the heart
Of the beast
Don't go stopping and putting down roots
Or your shoes won't fit
In your travelling boots
Sweet Albion around me everywhere I go
Sweet Albion surround me
You're everything I know