Lyrics

You can see the crazy little dog sniffing all the wet trees Following the noisy little boys sneaking down the High Street Flashing past the grotty betting shops - everybody losing Kilburn still burn Baby's hanging off his mummy's stocking tops Groping round her knickers with his lollypops Lemon drops - sleepy cops The church across the street has a bell and a Quasimodo You can hear them swing together now every Sunday mono But I'm trying to get some kip and I just don't want to know-wo Get the hell off that bell! Don't you think I deserve a little peace? If I was making all that row would you be pleased? Pain relieved or brain diseased? What a very strange society everybody lives in Swapping bits of paper for the difficulties of living How much for a beautiful body? How much for a bean tin? And how much for meaning? Well I'm afraid you've kicked me in the mental crutch Sawn my little brain out with your hawthorn bush Nothing much... but what a touch Oh deary, deary me