They've taken to pieces what was here evermore
The tears that you leave me are not reaching the floor
So soon you will see how I will need it some more
And there will always be another
(And she goes....)
Rich are the pickings of the curious hands
That play with fire and then turn it to sand
Break up the rocks on which this island stands
And turns it into another
I'm not running to her
She just attracts me vaguely
It's her voice that calls me
'Cause I'm the King, the King of July
And through these eyes I see it's miles away
In a place where the fire leads these feelings astray
And in a moment it's gone to find another day
And then we all know there is another
(And she goes...)
And where does she go to at the end of the night?
From a world of her own into a world that is mine
Where stones from the walls hide the feelings inside
And she will never need another
"One of the more successful tracks from our Bristol UK album. Sometimes in life you seem to just float from one doomed relationship into another with ease. I guess these words came from that kind of situation. This is one of handful of songs that stayed with us from start to finish. It was originally written at Koh San in Bath."
Chances R - King Of July (Live)
Live at Bristol Mauretania, December 1993.