3WW - alt-J, Little Simz, OTG

There was a wayward lad

Stepped out one morning

The ground to be his bed

The sky his awning

Neon, neon, neon

A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field

Cows surround so you lean on, lean on

So much your hugs become hold ons

Oh, these three worn words

Oh, that we whisper

Like the rubbing hands

Of tourists in Verona

I just want to love you in my own language

Well, that smell of sex

Good like burning wood

The wayward lad lay claim

To two thirsty girls from Hornsea

Who left a note when morning came:

«Girls from the pool say, „Hi“ (Hi)

The road erodes at five feet per year

Along England’s east coastline

Was this your first time?

Love is just a button we pressed

Last night by the camp fire»

Oh, these three worn words

Oh, that we whisper

Like the rubbing hands

Of tourists in Verona

I just want to love you in my own language