In the photo of you and your father
Stood in front of the limestone cliffs
A crooked picture frame presents the image of what you and him did

On the ferry that night I couldn’t sleep
And over breakfast you refused to speak
I looked for dolphins in the sea
But all I saw was you staring at me

I wish I had a brother, a sister or at least a dad
So I could ask for some sage advice on how to stop fucking up so bad

Instead I’m drinking at the end of the bar, in my home town
London’s a deep scar
No I won’t shut up and I won’t settle down
cos I’m drinking at the end of the bar, in my home town
New York’s not that far so turn the jukebox up and buy another round
And meet me at the end of the bar

There was no photo of you and your mum
I found that curious and sad
Cos you would capture every fleeting moment
while I was fucking up so bad

And in the back of the bus I tried to sleep
But all you wanted to do with me was speak
In the back of the bus I tried to sleep
But I ended up sharing my seat

So I wish I had an aeroplane or at least a little spare cash
So I could hit the road to Cuba, or buy a one-way to Marrakesh

No I won’t shut up and I won’t settle down
So turn the jukebox up and buy another round
And meet me at the end of the bar