It's a rain dirt town, job hurts, but it don't pay. All these calls they're making been driving you insane. Don't you see, don't you understand? Waiting for the phone to ring, to make me all I am.
I now describe my country. As if to strangers. This train is full of songs. Of local winners. And the wind surrounds the towers. And the flags they are blowing. And the bunting and the distance.