Up on the rooftopsUp on the rooftopsI use to see them from time to timeUp on the roof topsChimney sweepers and thatchersAnd the odd cable guyWalking around up there Like we walk the streetsNever bothered by the heightsBut stopping for a smokeWith heaven as backdropAnd just a coin to rest the feet onSeems like a worryless lifeNot being scared of heightsWere they so unafraid in other parts of life toWhat daring relations did they haveWhat dreams did they nurtureThose unafraid beingsWho walked the rooftopsLike they were nothing but another street
on the phoneOn the phoneShe was sitting behind me in the landscapeConstantly on the phoneConstantly upset and angered it seemedIn that foreign languageI always wonderedWhy botherWhy calling that personWhom makes her so distressed and sadWhy not letting goAnd call someone elseSomeone to be a spark plugTo kickstartA happier life
The monkey tattooThe monkey tattooI remember this girlShe had a rural accentBleached blond hair which was growing out dark on the top of her headShe was mostly minding her businessDrinking coffee at her work stationTalking low in an oldstyle NokiaOne warm dayShe removed her sweaterShe had a monkey tattooKind of unexpectedShe was not a tatoo person at all
Six fingers on a handSix fingers on a handHe was just a normal guyA bit of a geek that's trueWorn out t-skirt with some metal band logoLow riding hiphop trousersof the turn of the century kindHe had no carGot around by his rusty scooterKind brown eyesAnd a smile that missed a toothYou never remembered him when he was goneIf you hadn't seen his handIt had six fingersHe was no normal manHe was... He was - himself