| Song | Gubba Look-a-Likes |
| Artist | Half Man Half Biscuit |
| Album | Trouble Over Bridgewater |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| They come from underneath the stairs | |
| Into my room but no-one cares | |
| They’re on the bus and on the train | |
| They’re knocking on my window pane | |
| Oh Mother telephone the nurse | |
| Can’t you see it’s getting worse | |
| I close my eyes yet still it seems | |
| Everybody in my dreams | |
| Gubba look-a-likes | |
| Gubba look-a-likes | |
| I wake up screaming in the hall | |
| I didn’t mean to wake at all | |
| I run and lock the bathroom door | |
| Turn on the taps and out they pour | |
| Through all the villages and towns | |
| A thousand sandy-coloured clowns | |
| I try and escape down private drives | |
| And then I reach the Readers’ Wives | |
| Gubba look-a-likes | |
| Gubba look-a-likes | |
| In order to fling off this curse, I spend all day drinking in diverse taverns, with smarmy acrobats and balding senators. But after a while they too adopt the likeness, and begin to breed like town pigs. As a drunken lump I fall into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but the moment is fleeting, and I awake once more in despair – and in my final agonies believe myself lost. | |
| Gubba look-a-likes… | |
| In every film and every play | |
| On every public right of way | |
| On every flag I see unfurled | |
| On all the grounds in all the world | |
| The one armed bandits in the bar | |
| In the back of every car | |
| And even on my dying day | |
| They’ll refuse to go away | |
| When I walk towards the light | |
| Something somewhere won’t be right | |
| And what was once my Uncle Keith | |
| Says there’ll never be relief | |
| And we’ll go on and on and on and on and on | |
| Gubba look-a-likes… |
| They come from underneath the stairs | |
| Into my room but noone cares | |
| They' re on the bus and on the train | |
| They' re knocking on my window pane | |
| Oh Mother telephone the nurse | |
| Can' t you see it' s getting worse | |
| I close my eyes yet still it seems | |
| Everybody in my dreams | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| I wake up screaming in the hall | |
| I didn' t mean to wake at all | |
| I run and lock the bathroom door | |
| Turn on the taps and out they pour | |
| Through all the villages and towns | |
| A thousand sandycoloured clowns | |
| I try and escape down private drives | |
| And then I reach the Readers' Wives | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| In order to fling off this curse, I spend all day drinking in diverse taverns, with smarmy acrobats and balding senators. But after a while they too adopt the likeness, and begin to breed like town pigs. As a drunken lump I fall into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but the moment is fleeting, and I awake once more in despair and in my final agonies believe myself lost. | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| In every film and every play | |
| On every public right of way | |
| On every flag I see unfurled | |
| On all the grounds in all the world | |
| The one armed bandits in the bar | |
| In the back of every car | |
| And even on my dying day | |
| They' ll refuse to go away | |
| When I walk towards the light | |
| Something somewhere won' t be right | |
| And what was once my Uncle Keith | |
| Says there' ll never be relief | |
| And we' ll go on and on and on and on and on | |
| Gubba lookalikes |
| They come from underneath the stairs | |
| Into my room but noone cares | |
| They' re on the bus and on the train | |
| They' re knocking on my window pane | |
| Oh Mother telephone the nurse | |
| Can' t you see it' s getting worse | |
| I close my eyes yet still it seems | |
| Everybody in my dreams | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| I wake up screaming in the hall | |
| I didn' t mean to wake at all | |
| I run and lock the bathroom door | |
| Turn on the taps and out they pour | |
| Through all the villages and towns | |
| A thousand sandycoloured clowns | |
| I try and escape down private drives | |
| And then I reach the Readers' Wives | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| In order to fling off this curse, I spend all day drinking in diverse taverns, with smarmy acrobats and balding senators. But after a while they too adopt the likeness, and begin to breed like town pigs. As a drunken lump I fall into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but the moment is fleeting, and I awake once more in despair and in my final agonies believe myself lost. | |
| Gubba lookalikes | |
| In every film and every play | |
| On every public right of way | |
| On every flag I see unfurled | |
| On all the grounds in all the world | |
| The one armed bandits in the bar | |
| In the back of every car | |
| And even on my dying day | |
| They' ll refuse to go away | |
| When I walk towards the light | |
| Something somewhere won' t be right | |
| And what was once my Uncle Keith | |
| Says there' ll never be relief | |
| And we' ll go on and on and on and on and on | |
| Gubba lookalikes |