Polly was in a weird mood and sang to me the entire 3 1/2 miles:
We run together
We’re running down the street
And I just can’t get enough
And I just can’t get enough
Every time I think of Brunch Club
I know we have to run
And I just can’t get enough
And I just can’t get enough
Must have been from the Depeche Mode cover band he saw Friday night. It also prepared us for Attilla at Gridiron:
So we’re different colours and we’re different creeds
And different people have different needs
It’s obvious Attilla hates us, though we’ve done nothing wrong
Even though he knows us, what could we have done?
