In the Plaza de Espana
Surrounded by beggars and thieves
We used my jacket like a blanket
When we hid behind the leaves.
Your bag was stolen from your side
While we were busy on the grass
All I could see was you
We never could have seen a thief pass
But I'm not sorry I distracted you
You lost your phone, your cards and keys
And I said I'd gladly misplace all my own
To spend another night between your knees
But we both had to sleep alone
And I woke up sore and slightly bruised
A brown and swollen souvenir
From the inventive locations that we had used
But over here, the trees are naked
In the city of love, everyone is ill
And my new postman woke me up again
With a letter for my ex and a fucking bill
Now I don't know what is going on
And I'm just too lazy to pursue
I just get so fucking bored
Though I'm never short of something to do
Writer(s): Middleton Malcolm Bruce, Moffat Aidan John
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