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The Blades
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Downmarket
In an unfamiliar bed
In an unfamiliar room
Theres a throbbing in my head
Ive succeeded I presume
Everythings black and white and red
Living from day to day to day
I suppose i cant be choosy
When theres not too many choices
With problems of a nation
Im not waiting at an airport
Im not waiting at a station
Im standing at a bus stop
Downmarket
Downmarket
On a rainy afternoon
On a gambling machine
Same old jukebox same old tune
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Its hard to break an old routine
Everythings black and white and grey
Living from day to day to day
Its a fatal resignation
When theres nothing left to hope for
In a hopeless situation
Im not waiting at an airport
Im not waiting at a station
Im standing at a bus stop
Downmarket
Downmarket
Downmarket
Downmarket
Downmarket
Downmarket
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