Scott Walker - Montague Terrace (in blue)

The little clock's stopped ticking now
We're swallowed in the stomached rue
The only sound to tear the night
Comes from the man upstairs

His bloated belching figure stomps
He may crash through the ceiling soon
The window sees trees cry from cold
And claw the moon

 

But we know don't we
And we'll dream won't we
Of Montague Terrace in blue