 Brunswick lyrics ( Weddings parties anything )   
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 Rate Brunswick
Artist : Weddings parties anything
Song : Brunswick
(Thomas) In the summer all the old men, they sit
on their front porches, While the women comb
their hair, shell their peas And wonder what
they've missed. And the forlorn children scan the
streets For wayward dogs, with fading torches.
It's no amazing sight, it's something that I
miss. I still hear the trucks as they crunch
their gears going through the lanes, And curse
all folk who get stuck in their way And the
roaring forklift starting up At 7am of a weekday
morning How I cursed them then, now I see things
another way. And if I see things through a
hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime? When I
ain't been to Brunswick for a long long time.
There was a kind word you could get >From the man
who ran the milk bar, And a rough one from the old
bloke Who lived across the road, and though The
footpaths stank with the refuse Of overfed
Alsatians, The air was rife with Tip Top Bread,
The baker's morning load. And if I see things
through a hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime?
When I ain't been to Brunswick for a long long
time. And there's a cottage I think of, Sometimes
when I've been drinking, And in the bottom of my
glass, I see a life I've missed, Of summer walks
and well trained dogs And plenty of time for
thinking. So just don't bother asking why the
hell I'm always pissed. But if I see things
through a hallowed gaze, Well is it such a crime?
When I ain't been to Brunswick, No I ain't been to
Brunswick, I ain't been nowhere near it for a long
long time.
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