O'er grassy dale, and lowland scene
Come see, come hear, the English Scheme.
The lower-class, want brass, bad chests, scrounge fags.
The clever ones tend to emigrate
Like your psychotic b
Chachoo-choocha lyrics

chachoo-choocha
these golden times
c-c
no time for rhymes
c-c
see all the cri
ig brother, who left home
For jobs in Holland, Munich, Rome
He's thick but he struck it rich, switch
The commune crap, camp bop, middle-class, flip-flop
Guess that's why they end up in bands
He's the green piece in us a
Good Mother lyrics


I've got money in my pocket
I like the colour of my hair
I've got a friend who loves me
Got
ll
He's the creep-creep in us all
Condescends to black men
Very nice to them
They talk of Chile while driving through Haslingdon
You got sixty hour weeks, and stone stone toilet back-gardens
Peter Cook's jokes, bad dope
Crash lyrics

Your lovely daydreams
  from the back of youth
You metamorphosed
  and then o
, check shirts, lousy groups
Point their fingers at America
Down pokey quaint streets in Cambridge
Cycles our distant spastic heritage
Its a gay red, roundhead, army career, grim head
If we was smart we'd emigrate