A Dialogue Upon Arriving in the City, Composed Entirely of The Beautiful South Lyrics
(Author’s Note: Unless you’re a big fan of this obscure British band or hail from England, you’re probably not going to “get” today’s entry. But, you know, it could be fun anyway.)
D: Well, here I am at the airport, with my passport.
T: The Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay!
D: The weather isn’t sunny and the weather isn’t bad.
T: Well, this city has its charm.
D: This could be Rotterdam or anywhere. Liverpool or Rome.
T: I want my sun-drenched, wind-swept Ingrid Bergman kiss!
D: Your town is dragging me down.
T: I’ll carry on regardless.
D: Another holiday argument!
T: Here I am with my souvenirs.
D: Video, compact disc. There’s nothing we forgot.
T: I’ll cry with a limp
D: It’s due to fog, it’s due to fog
T: Tell me how do you feel?
D: Here, it’s cold.
T: It’s got class and it’s got excellence like you’ve never seen.
D: It gives cheap thrills to the seagulls.
T: This easy bird is easily impressed.
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