A little tired of this city A little tired of you A little tired of the small sort of things That we never do Little tired of the grey skies A little tired of the rain Won't you take me away from here? Maybe France or maybe Spain? We'll sit by the blue skies And talk about missing the rain We'll waste another evening Lying about the good old days A little tired of this city A little tired of you A little tired of the small sort of things That we never do A little tired of the grey skies A little tired of the rain Won't you take me away from here? Or maybe France or maybe Spain? We'll sit by the blue skies And talk about missing the rain We'll waste another evening Lying about the good old days Maybe I was wrong To say the good days are gone The roses are wilting As fast as the day is As fast as the day is long We'll sit by the blue skies And talk about missing the rain We'll waste another evening Lying about the good old days