The scarlet boots, the kiss of death
Patient in the end of it
Blended angles, whispered love
Countdown 'til it's gone for long
Velvet voices, haunting slow
Darkended notes with bright decor
George and Velms are gone for weeks
Southern belles in London sing
I'm staring down the Epley Gate
Two more days before the place arrives
And you'll be standing here with your smile
I'm carving up the lobby seats
Pushing down the cafe drinks
Checking the arrival screens for your
A hundred feet above the landing
There's a girl riding down
She's floating toward me now
Her sleeves are all stretching out
The magenta's following behind
Wake up
Runners give a grinding halt
Last night left to spend apart
Your bags are packed by now for home
Stories of the tour unfold
Your booking agent's broken nose
Budding heads with creeping dolts
George and Velms are gone for weeks
Southern belles in London sing
Southern belles in London sing