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Songs | Albums | Album Arts![](/images/pixblue.gif)
Song: | Apple Cider Reconstitution |
Album: | Modern Times | Genres: | Rock |
Year: | 1975 |
Length: | 320 sec |
Lyricist: Al Stewart
Lyrics:
When we came to the station all the trains were rusty The doors were open and the windows broken in There was grass in all the cracks and the air hung musty The travel posters were flapping in the wind So we moved through the dust and gloom Playing waiting games in the waiting-room Lay our sleeping-bags out on the floor And on Sunday morning easy rider comes to me with apple cider Leaves me here without a place to go
If I followed the coast road, I'd be home by evening The harbour lights still cut across the bay From the slot machine arcade the lights go streaming To the bikes outside the rock 'n' roll cafe Ah but you know those small town blues Are really too much to lose There's nothing really there to go back for And on Sunday morning easy rider comes to me with apple cider Leaves me here without a place to go
Any railway station would be just fine, fine, fine To settle down and wash the cobwebs from your head Oh, if your situation's running dry, dry, dry Find a waiting-room beneath the stars to make your bed'
Cause you know London can make your brain stall The streets get cold and empty on a rainy night So you duck into the subway station, you can hear the trains call They want to take you to the Earl's Court Road, but it don't seem right 'Cause it's na, na, na noowah On the juke-box, singing in the burger bar See the people's faces in the passing cars don't want to know And on Sunday morning easy rider comes to me with apple cider Leaves me here without a place to go
You have the most appealing surface I have seen Bring it over here, lay it down by me Don't mean to make you nervous, I just mean To make you see, this is the place to be
When we came to the station all the trains were rusty The air was empty and the platforms overgrown There were old tin cans and cats and the doors were crusted With mud and leaves and names carved long ago And the rails go on for ever in a silver trail to the setting sun You can follow them anywhere you want to go And on Sunday morning easy rider comes to me with apple cider Leaves me here without a need to know
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