James Blake - High Road lyrics

At two fish creek they come to meet Weathered and edged by the summer heat The sun is always in their eyes They hold their gla**es like a prize On a clouded fair and gin they dine They're always losing track of time A swampy mangrove paradise They import everything that's nice Comfort is a word rarely heard Wages are transient they look For opportunity to grow The better times they never show By now their dreams have all been dreamt All of their money has been spent The crashing surf upon the ground And no one ever hears a sound A life of middling at best Put that pro-touch-up to a rest Was it a choice they do not know The better times they never show Paradise is all around But happiness is never found [x 2]