Вступление
Well, I just cycled in to the pine floored living room
Pissed on the mystics; scoffed at the Hockney.
Took all the road signs back to the council
Put my foot through the TV - not that they’d noticed.
Winced at the film trivia book at the bog-side
Burst all the bean bags; smoked all the French fags
Hey, Mr. Gauloises - ou est le hubcaps?
Aah….. Aah….. Aah….. Aah…..
I scream, you scream, we all scream for I Ching
And spag bol and Soulmates and Persian cats.
There’s a ghost with a conscience, a fridge full of nonsense.
Here’s to your world view, the one in which you
Feel there should be a saxophone in the corner,
Say that again and I’ll generalise ya.
Aah….. Aah….. Aah….. Aah…..