At the High Road end of Willesden Lane
I'm not the best with directions
I took your hand in my hand
And we'd hotfoot to the confectionary
When nine to five means eight to six
The State Cinema means everything
A thousand miles from the Kings Road crowds
The boutiques on Portobello Road
In the double daylight saving time
Amid wood-effect linoleum
I'd watch the white dot on the television
Slowly disappear
In the web of indoor washing lines
In love around a single coal fire
A thousand miles from the Kings Road crowds
The boutiques on Portobello Road
I'll capture the furtive looks we'd share
Scraping the frost from the living room wallpaper
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll describe how the lights fell on your face
Write down the Woolworth's flavoured lipstick taste
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll capture the way the frozen milk
Pushed up the silver tops from the bottle necks
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll write down each stolen summer kiss
Describe all our falling outs and the making-ups
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'm not the best with directions
I took your hand in my hand
And we'd hotfoot to the confectionary
When nine to five means eight to six
The State Cinema means everything
A thousand miles from the Kings Road crowds
The boutiques on Portobello Road
In the double daylight saving time
Amid wood-effect linoleum
I'd watch the white dot on the television
Slowly disappear
In the web of indoor washing lines
In love around a single coal fire
A thousand miles from the Kings Road crowds
The boutiques on Portobello Road
I'll capture the furtive looks we'd share
Scraping the frost from the living room wallpaper
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll describe how the lights fell on your face
Write down the Woolworth's flavoured lipstick taste
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll capture the way the frozen milk
Pushed up the silver tops from the bottle necks
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines
I'll write down each stolen summer kiss
Describe all our falling outs and the making-ups
So when nostalgic eyes romanticise, I can stick to my lines