| Step into the great outdoors
|
| After all it would be wrong to stay inside
|
| I know
|
| When the first chimney takes its chances
|
| And despite their branches all the leaves decide
|
| It’s time to go
|
| And cover up the crimes
|
| Of the seasons passed before
|
| Every footpath leads into another footpath
|
| I can’t find the place to stop
|
| The endless chore
|
| But it’s time that I went visiting
|
| These guys I know who’ve bought themselves a shop
|
| A record store
|
| A humble hole in the wall
|
| Could you ever want for more?
|
| I’ll be hanging in the record store
|
| Store
|
| Store
|
| Oh
|
| Do they find me annoying?
|
| My constant questions cloying?
|
| Oh
|
| I have seen you when your skies get overclouded
|
| And your eyes are breeding grounds
|
| For tears
|
| You could do worse than come on down
|
| To a place that’s built to specialise in sounds
|
| For sore ears
|
| For years they’ll search for other cures
|
| Your life’s a film, who writes the score?
|
| I’ll be hanging in the record store
|
| Store
|
| Store
|
| Oh
|
| What treasures in the shelves
|
| For he who searches, she who delves
|
| Astral physicists explain
|
| The mysteries that surround it
|
| But the record stays still
|
| While the world spins around it
|
| All the rest are vicious lies
|
| Callous and unfounded
|
| The record stays still
|
| While the world spins around it
|
| Yeah the record stays still
|
| While the world spins around it
|
| The record stays still
|
| While the world revolves around it |