All that rugby puts hairs on your chest What chance have you got against a tie and a crest

Sitting on the train You're nearly there You're a part of the production line

I wanna say, I wanna tell you About the young ideas

1977

We have the power to control the whole land You never must question our motives or plans

If you gave me a dream for my pocket You'd be plugging in the wrong socket

I've got a pocket full of pretty green I'm going to put it in the fruit machine

I wish this grave would open up and swallow me alive

To touch your face in the morning light I hope you're always gonna be around

I was always led to believe that it was a condom machine he was singing about

Hi, How are things in your little world I hope they're going well, and you are too

Love’s with a passion called hate And what you give is what you get

But you find out life isn't like that It's so hard to comprehend

So nice to see you tonight, And I'm, so glad that you came

I realize I should have stuck to my guns Instead shit out to be one of the bastard sons

The place I love is a million miles away It's too far for the eye to see