What’s in that box? What’s hiding in here?
Pictures from Bedford, taken half a blue moon ago.
My we were young then, all mix-tapes and alcopops,
Bum bags, shell suits and meatloaf cds.
Did I really dress like that and dance to that tune?
Then stumble home drunk by the light of the moon.
Guess times they change and the change times they guess,
And nonsense can still be a welcome relief.
My Weezer cd’s well they hardly get played,
My obsession with Ani Difranco has faded,
You might ask is anything sacred these days,
And I’d probably tell you that I love Leonard Cohen.
A snail carries with him some slime and a shell,
I have ten boxes plus cartons as well
As these books, bags and a case
My grandfather used in the war.
Did I really write those words
And did she write back?
Stray hands in Row G all through that James Bond film.
Nonsense it still has a welcoming ring,
And heroes they never don’t come easy.
Chorus