Oh I went down to Memphis to see what had become
Of those little works of art that hung out there at the sun
And I hit the Motor City, I was looking for the scene
Of the sound of soul that helped to fuel a million teenage dreams
Oh nobody could help me, they said they were all lost
To the bureaucrats and bean-counters that only count the cost
No-one could save me, they said it was too late
But I'll keep on keeping on until I reach heaven's gate
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot
I need three minutes now that'll make my heart stop
Oh so tell me that it's too late
It's a race against the clock
But I'm still looking around
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop
Gonna keep on looking
So I sail on down the Mersey to fee that beating heart
But I had to wade through heritage before my trip could start
Yet in the highlands and the valleys, in the urban sprawl and smoke
There's a torch held high and shining and while it burns there's still hope
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot
I've done thirty years now, there's no way I can stop
Oh so tell me that it's too late
It's a race against the clock
But I keep looking around
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop
Some say they crashed and burned, they met a sorry end
But I believe they're out there and they will be found again
I hear an old guitar and a battered tambourine
Someone blowing harp and I feel I'm seventeen again
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot
I need three minutes now that'll make my heart stop
Oh so tell me that it's too late
It's a race against the clock
But I keep looking around
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot
I've done thirty years now, there's no way I can stop
Oh so tell me that it's too late
It's a race against the clock
But I keep looking around
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop
I keep on looking
Gonna keep on searching
Gonna keep on looking
Writer(s): Ian Brown, Henry Priestman
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