No night buses, taxis, gun culture, knives, muggings...
Just walking along the middle of Seaside Road at two in the morning, singing to the moon. Oh, how the townsfolk loved my unerring renditions of modern day popular classics... The look of love... Fly me to the moon... We don't need that Fascist Groove thang... Felicity... Blue Monday... The hits just kept on coming!
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