They put a parking lot on a piece of land
When the supermarket used to stand.
Before that they put up a bowling alley
On the site that used to be the local pally.
My sister went there on a Saturday.
Another Saturday, another date.
She would be ready but she's always make them wait.
In the hallway, in anticipation,
He didn't know the night would end up in frustration.
He'd end up blowing all his wages for the week
All for a cuddle and a peck on the cheek.
That's how they did it when I was just a kid,
My sister always did.
And my mom would always sit up and wait.
It always ended up in a big row
When my sister used to get home late.
Out of my window I can see them in the moonlight,
Two silhouettes saying goodnight by the garden gate.
The day they knocked down the pally
My sister stood and cried.
The day they knocked down the pally
Part of my childhood died, just died.
Now I'm grown up and playing in a band,
And there's a car park where the pally used to stand.
My sister's married and she lives on an estate.
Her daughters go out, now it's her turn to wait.
She knows they get away with things she never could,
But if I asked her I wonder if she would,
It's only natural.
Just like the pally on a Saturday.
Where the big bands used to play.