Island People de The High Llamas

don't come waltzing back to my door
i cannot give any more
tour country cousins, squabble and fight
and gamble your way through the night
the money's all gone, it's time to move on
leave all the debts, those letters and threats
oh

the island awaits the quarryman's whim
who dillies and dallies within
the favoured fearful take some offence
and speak of those summers well spent
if the rumours are true, the daytrips are through
leave with the rest, who could not care less
oh

the rumours are true, the daytrips are through
leave with the rest, who could not care less