Weather To Fly
Disclaimer: I don't own Ashes to Ashes, any of the characters, Elbow or the fantastic song, Weather To Fly.
Are we having the time of our life?
Are we having the time of our lives?
Are we coming across clear?
Are we coming across fine?
Are we part of the plan here?
Are we having the time of our lives?
Are we coming across clear?
Are we coming across fine?
Are we having the time of our lives?
Are we part of the plan here?
We're going to go. Soon. Back to London. Back to Fenchurch East.
We have the driver and the time on our hands,
One little room and the biggest of plans.
The days were shaping up,
Frosty and bright.
Perfect weather to fly.
Back to the people I let down. Betrayed.
Perfect weather to fly.
We're packing our bags. Toothbrush, shirt, pants.
Pounding the streets where my fathers feet still,
Ring from the walls,
We'd sing in the doorways,
Or bicker and row,
Just figuring how we were wired inside,
Perfect weather to fly,
Go downstairs. Pay the bill. Go outside.
So in looking to stray from the line,
We decided instead,
We should pull out the thread that was
Stitching us into this tapestry vile,
And why wouldn't you try,
Perfect weather to fly.
Put the bags in the Quattro. All I can see is Chris and Ray, sat in the back, messing about.
We have the driver and time on our hands,
One little room and the biggest of plans,
The days were shaping up,
Frosty and bright,
Perfect weather to fly.
Divs. But they're part of the team. My team.
Perfect weather to fly.
We get in. She looks at me. She sees right through me.
Pounding the streets where my fathers feet still,
Ring from the walls,
We'd sing in the doorways,
Or bicker and row,
Just figuring how we were wired inside,
Perfect weather to fly.
She didn't before. Gene Hunt. The Manc Lion. The sheriff. The enigma.
So in looking to stray from the line,
We decided instead,
We should pull out the thread that was
Stitching us into this tapestry vile,
And why wouldn't you try,
Perfect weather to fly.
She does now. And I let her.
