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Daemon had just dropped by to pass the timeWith a peaceful cigaretteOr maybe with a roll-up filter-tipHe'd still not made it yetYes, went on down that old cafeBy the harbour for a little change of viewTook a seat next to the windowLike he would like to doSaw the fishing boatsThe time children fighting over an ice-cream coneAnd a pack of Camels on the shelf and beachThrough the rings of smoke he'd blownChimney shadows of the factoriesGrey walls across the floorTelegraph-poles and sandy covesRunning down and alone to the shoreYes, and the statue by the quaysideOf the lancer, once so proud and braveAll in remembrance of his heroic deedsAs he lies at peace in his graveYes, in eighteen twenty-fourLetras de cancionesSomebody had won a war for sure, he thoughtAnd there were flags and ribbons wavingThere was feast and celebration, in the air cries of joysWhile outside by a steam-shovelWas a child playing with a toyCheap evening returnCheap evening returnCheap evening returnYes, in nineteen thirty-fourSomebody had lost a warThere was trial and tribulationOh and the laundry lines with pants that danceShirts flying in the careless breezeOvergrown garden-house, glass, doctor, leavesFalling from the treesLike merging into one, lemmings on the runPerhaps should be somewhere else, who couldSlithering down the sky was candy flossThe child had tossed it up against the window paneAnd by nineteen something or otherYes somebody might like another warThere could be nothin' left to fight for anymoreThere'll be feast and celebration, in the air cries of joyWhile outside by a little barrelWas a child playing with a toyCheap evening returnCheap evening returnCheap evening return From Letras Mania