3am and eighteen years old, some town in Northern FrancenFifteen pounds across the sea and backnWe were not looking for no answers, just funnLike a mirage in the night we saw them therenPunk rock girls about our age hanging for no reason in the moonlit village squarenWe looked ahead and carried on our waynBut where'd those strangers get to and where are they today?nRetraced our steps but they're gone forevernLife just seems to be that waynOne hour later a mate and I went back to find those girls againnLeft our friends sleeping underneath the starsnCops stopped and searched us 'What you doing in our town at 4am?'nWe finally hit the sad and empty squarenJust the beercans remained, the girls had vanishednInto their smalltown Gallic world, we woke our matesnAnd tried to find the nearest trainnBut where'd those strangers get to and where are they today?nRetraced our steps well they're gone forevernLife just seems to be that way, it's OKnLife just seems to be that way