Remember your skinny young folk's nerves
With his guitar and his greasy cap
Do you still want your ageing hipster
With his records and his trilby hat


Angel heart, it's time to let go
It's so much harder to live in this town
Fact of it is, I'm fourty-two years old
And the venues are closing down


Folk rocks just beat up old names
I've been holding out as long as I can
It's a new tech crowd, it's a property game
And I'd need to be a richer man


Ah but you have a precious voice from heaven
A once-in-a-blue-moon ecstasy
You could sing the phone book
If there was still a phone book
You could sing the phone book
It would sound beautiful to me

And now are days when I get up and sing
They'll be talking like I'm not even there
Now it appears I'm maybe not that thing
That's okay, though it's not that I don't care


With all the rest of the semi-fixed abodes
With their colours and their songs and their souls
I'd be long gone down the road
If not for you girl, and rent control


Ah but you have a precious voice from heaven
A once-in-a-blue-moon ecstasy
You could sing the phone book
If there was still a phone book
You could sing the phone book
It would sound beautiful to me

Yeah, you could sing the phone book
If there was still a phone book
You could sing the phone book
It would sound beautiful to me


Cool kids who make your town
Gotta help them stick around
You wanna keep your city hip
Or all the kids will desert the ship