There's no mistake. I smell that smell. It's that time of year again. I can taste the air. The clocks go back. Railway track. something blocks the line again. And the train runs late for the first time. Pebble beach. We're underneath. A pier just been painted red. Where I heard the news for the first time. And all the friends lay down the flowers. Sit on the banks and drink for hours. Talk of the way they saw him last. local boy in a photograph. Today. He'll always be twenty-three. Yet the train runs on and on. Past the place they found his clothing. How about that? How about that? How about that?. Theres no mistake. I smell that smell. its that time of year again. I can taste the air. The clocks go back. Railway track... Somethings blocked the line again. and the train runs late for the first time today... and all the friends lay down the flowers. sit on the banks and drink for hours. talk of the way they saw him last. local boy in the photograph.... today. he's gone away..