Smalltown England

Turn left at the lights about 50 yards down

There's a pub in the corner and I'll meet you inside

About quarter to eight and we'll go into town

And find out what everybody's been saying about us

Smalltown walls have eyes and ears

Stories fly thick and fast round here

Truth and lies are all the same

Whatever you do don't rock the boat

You've got to play the game, play the game

Ch: Is it a crime to want something else?

Is it a crime to believe in something different?

Is it a crime to want to make things happen?

To spit in the faces of the cynical fools

The incrowd know that the shell is thin

So they all protect the cage they're in

Get drunk and stoned and wrecked again

No tears of rage, no cries of pain

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

In smalltown England

Because the world outside the pint in hand

Is all so hard to understand

And if visions of the world come clear

They're not allowed to interfere

Ch: Is it a crime to want something else? . . .

The smell of hot food from the takeaway curry

Diesel fumes from a passing lorry

Waiting in the queue in the pouring rain

For the chip shop up on Bowling Lane

Well, last week we all got really smashed

We couldn't stand up, it was a real laugh

And this week's going to be just the same

And the next and the next, again and again

They say you've got to have fun while you're young

'Cause they can't believe there's anything else except this