It was the taste of the kerosene, bit your tongue, lanolin and wet rust

No Saharan dust, we are out in the wild west

With New Zealand flax, torn silage wrap

Portuguese Man 'o War, through the door, it was the sight of

It was the sight of Anwen

Twirling and twisting as she dances in the kitchen

And she goes crash, bang, spinning around, round

Anwen, a tip-toe tornado, she takes out everything that's not tied down

But when the music's over, I found that

Anwen's put me back on my feet again

She's put me back on my feet again

It was the sound of thе cat's eyes on the road, tinnitus and potholеs

Kettle boil, jet stream, washing machine

Screaming rooks in the sycamore, Caribbean thunderstorm

Lost lambs in the night

It was the sight of the plastic on the tide, frayed rope and fishing line

Black sky heading home, soaked to the bone

With a daffodil in a cup, broke down, in a rut

Need something to pick me up

And it was the sight of Anwen

Twirling and twisting as she dances in the kitchen

She goes crash, bang, spinning around, round

Anwen, my tip-toe tornado, she takes out everything that's not tied down

But when the music's over, I found that

Anwen's put me back on my feet

She goes twirling and twisting

She's crashing and smiling as she

She puts me back on my feet

I saw Anwen, twirling and twisting as she dances in the kitchen