The Other Seven

The voice of the great british beat boom
Is now holed up in barcelona
Singing one song in eight
In a ballroom called la paloma
Before the other seven
He's bored as hell
Distracted drinking
Out of step
And out of time
He talks to the sax player behind
And he gestures wildly at him
And accuses him
Of drinking too much
And playing out of time
"arriva!"

Our indestructible friendship
Now lives in another country
We were like blood for 10 years
We'd see each other
Every single day
For the other seven
I met you twice a year
And if i left it up to you
I'd never even see you
You know i'm selfish
I like to do the arranging
And then start complaining
You never even ring me

And just for an instant
Our eyes meet across the room
And he's not really sure
If he recognises me
Turns confused and finds it
And has another drink
And the other seven
Turn their blind eyes
'cos when he sings
It's like nothing has ever changed
It's like he's grabbed the hands of time
And held on for dear life
Until he started to unwind
And took him back 20 years
But he knows that it's too late
It's too late
It's too late