Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 134

Today is Sunday, the 15th of November 2020
Afternoon, they say. Autumn here, not winter yet.
Comment ça va?

"Bromford (Comment Avez-Vous Ici?)"

Comment avez-vous ici?
Quand partez-vous?
How did you get here?
When do you leave?

Comment-avez vous ici?
Quand partez-vous?
How did you get here?
When do you leave?

It's a long way to my town
Where an open mind means hell is close behind you
On the streets of Bromford
I see people holdin' hands
I wish the lovers would go home
I wish the lovers would go home
It's a long way to my town
Where a foolish man is one who votes against you

On the streets of Bromford
They don't know who I am
They wish that I would just go home
They wish that I would just go home

Comment avez-vous ici?
Quand partez-vous?
How did you get here?
When do you leave?

Comment-avez vous ici?
Quand partez-vous?
How did you get here?
When do you leave?

Don't let 'em see you cry
See you sweat
See you try
Just play it cool
And hang on to the familiar

Don't let 'em see you fall
See you slip
See you stall
Just play the fool
And hang on until November

Catch me walkin' like a vagabond--street to street
But the street signs looking all Greek to me
Speaking the native tongue's took chic for me
So I keep my native tongue in my cheek to speak
So don't mind me
You're foreign, Jordan, don't remind me
Just point me to the point where Ieave and I'll be
Back with a life-long love beside me
Holding hands with a cup of that chai tea
Can you say cliché? That's what we say
Who knows, maybe we could all be the same
But I don't speak French, I just speak plain
Invaded your city with stupid friends on a weekday
That's not like me
The birds in this town don't like me
Monuments in the square despise me
They think so highly
But I don't take this town lightly
Somebody take a second to write me
We out here

The drive there, man I really thought it was a nightmare
Turns out the nightmare was right here
Got our GPS but I can't find where I can lay my head tonight
Is this way right?
Their faces sing to me
Go home, go home, go home
We wake up thinking that we're gonna get a taste of the city
But it turns out that they hate us
For thinking they should learn just to erase
But I'm not here to fight
Just wanna see some sights
But their faces sing to me
Go home, go home, go home

We're guests of a province of guests of a sovereign nation
The natives alien to the rest of the population
Here, English takes on a negative connotation
So surrounding cities are represented in moderation
And they ain't tryna be disturbed
They just wanna walk, eat, sleep, and work
But a bunch of tourists speaking like me enter and complain that we can't read their words
I need to sit down, may I use this bench?
Mercy-bue-coop? Excuse my (haha)
But as I sit down and look at the archi-texture
I begin to understand that we aren't members
They're in but not of the world they occupy
And get hate cause they won't compromise
And some think that's a disgrace or a spit in Canada's face
But that's exactly the way we feel back in the states
Where, personally, I wanna tell everyone including the churches we meet
That I'm not hurtin' to be your version of me
And it starts occurrin' to me that I'm speakin' this town's language
So now I love Bromford, I hope it never changes

 

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