Experts on trivial things
Join the suburban boffins of Britain
Dull as the pewter skies over North West Eleven
Death overcomes by stealth
You work on your pallor, complexion like paste
Sister, somewhere in Australia
In drab St. Barts on the new by-pass
A life of small horizons
Have stressfully jogged to health
A solitary life
Dull as the pewter skies over North West Eleven
A solitary life
And come to the end, sad and alone
A solitary life
The satisfaction of routines
A solitary life
Never did keep in touch
In life you always were quite numb
Model trains or soldiers in lead
Smug little victories
Dull as the pewter skies over North West Eleven
A serious hobby in the garden shed
Small revenges at the office
A life of small horizons
A life of small horizons
A solitary life
And holidays in the Yorkshire Dales
Resigning by degrees
Excitement comes by subtle means
A solitary life
Unenvious of those flea bitten
A life of small horizons
Socially a bit of a failure
Dull as the pewter skies over North West Eleven
Dull as the governmental sky over North West Eleven
Like the gray defeat on an inmates face
A life of small horizons
From selfish years, while all your peers
A solitary life
A life of small horizons
Nice not to have to try too much
Or cycling tours of the North of Wales
Dull as the governmental sky over North West Eleven
A steady reliable tumor you’ve grown
On continental flings
With a copy of Penthouse in the loo
Sex, no more than a, how do you do?
And foggier now, you soon succumb
A life of small horizons
A life spent adding losses and profits
