Yeah, I'm recording

One, two, three, four.

Bouncer greets us at the door

He can tell we've been here before

So he lets us pass

And we climb up 15 flights of stairs

And find that spot in the corner just over there.

It's only 630 but we're starting to drink

I'm ordering the usual

I think I need a change of pace

London's bursting at the seams

It's not quite the place I hoped I'd be.

It's white wine in a wetherspoons

It's fine dining with cheap perfume

It's country walks down the motorway

How many drugs have you done today?

'cause concrete sculptures and broken glass

It's the lamp posts who guide our paths

Because the moon can't get in

And the clouds hang heavy

Blocking out his pursuit

And booze hangs limply on our rental suits.

'cause we're fires, we're burning bright

Breaking bottles and starting fights

But the evening has other plans

Run as they pull up with two more vans.

It's white wine in a wetherspoons

It's fine dining with cheap perfume

It's country walks down the motorway

How many drugs have you done today?

But I won't fuss

I'll let you pass

No, I won't fuss

I'll let you pass.

'cause it's only white wine in a wetherspoons

Fine dining with cheap perfume

Dlr closed due to workers' strikes

God knows how I'll get home tonight.