Woorden: Thomas Dolby. Leipzig.

Thirty nine and you need some leeway
soon you're eyeing the overseas page
The trains're running late
As you close the garden gate
Step through your steel front doorframe
"Dinner's in the microwave, sweetie"
Leipzig is calling you Henry
Leipzig is calling you Jane
Leipzig is calling you Leonard
Leipzig is calling you names
Cars were burning on yellow lines
Wheels turning, traffic lights change
Another misty bus-queue morning
Faces smile down from a hoarding
You stoop to the bin - drop something in

Well you'll soon feel yourself again
And everyplace is just the same, isn't it?

... Like the sound of taxi brakes
The sound of a dentist's drill
The colour of skates on ice
Under clingflilm - it's calling
Leipzig is calling you names.