High Road – TennisBy At two fish creek they come to meetWeathered and edged by the summer heatThe sun is always in their eyesThey hold their glasses like a prizeOn a clouded fair and gin they dineThey’re always losing track of timeA swampy mangrove paradiseThey import everything that’s niceComfort is a word rarely heardWages are transient they lookFor opportunity to growThe better times they never showBy now their dreams have all been dreamtAll of their money has been spentThe crashing surf upon the groundAnd no one ever hears a soundA life of middling at bestPut that pro-touch-up to a restWas it a choice they do not knowThe better times they never showParadise is all aroundBut happiness is never found[x2] www.pillowlyrics.com419786497975 88k 20