Текст: Slow Club. Come On Youth.

One final trip on to the coast
To see the sea, and its host
I had to stop my lips from making
The most of foreign sounds

With one road in and one road out
I never thought to pray for drought
But even if I did
I?d be talking to bones in the ground
Because you?re just a myth

And the chance you?ve killed the choir
And the boy set him self on fire
Come on youth, don?t give in
Like the very last bowling pin

Do you love to regret,
Or forgive and forget?
If you?re going to forget it all
Cold is comfort
Comfort is cold
This is cold

Fade back into the wallpaper
And think about
What you?ve done to her

Don?t cry yourself to sleep now
It?s a reaction at least

These satellites don?t care for subtle moves
As we push through knee-high waste seafood
Picking up silver and gold
From some flooded trophy room
And you?re just a myth

And the chance you?ve killed the choir
And the boy set him self on fire
Come on youth, don?t give in
Like the very last bowling pin

Do you love to regret,
Or forgive and forget?
If you?re going to forget it all
Cold is comfort
Comfort is cold
Yes it?s cold
Oh it?s cold
Yes it?s cold