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Sometimes you've got to get away |
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If I had a car I'd drive it |
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To a place where they don't know my face |
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Change my clothes, my shoes, my hair and my name |
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But I'll stay next to you |
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Not sure what happens when we get there |
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We're just in love with going somewhere |
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And it's easy to grab fifteen seconds of fame |
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But the last nine or ten get so hard to sustain |
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I'll stay next to you |
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So long to princess mourners |
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Farewell you fuel protesters |
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And future generations will not appreciate your miniscule improvements to the living standards index that you earned at the expense of all their lives and all their children |
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Oh, we're not getting any younger |
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No, it's not getting any better |
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And if life's like a road full of hazards and bends why do we act surprised when it comes to an end |
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I'll stay next to you |
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So we leave the car and take the train and set off in the pouring rain |
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Travel light, standard class |
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Half the legroom, twice as fast |
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Look at the world that flashes by |
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The countryside, the power lines that seem to race along with you |
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Well it's near the end of the school day so I send a text back home to say |
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Sorry mum and dad and bro, I couldn't stay, I had to go |
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To London with someone |
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Before I come undone |
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'Cause where I'm from's a humdrum town and I don't want to die |
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We're gonna work our way into the centre of the crowd |
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And I for one will be appalled if I'm not shocked at what's allowed |
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Disculture, so jammin' |
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No need to examine no magazine or tv screen to know what's going on |
