Half Man Half Biscuit - Uffington Wa**ail lyrics

Oh say I'm not the only one to fill with trepidation Walking across the forecourt of the fire station My wariness consumes me, yet still protects me from The dimmer switch, and the membership of Britannia Music Club I adventured for a fortnight in the valley of the Rhone Defied capricious mistrals on which tragedies are blown Dismounting at the roadside to lubricate my chain I heard the hounds of retribution barking their refrain: Let's go the Met Bar, and cause an altercation Let's go the Groucho, and snap at rakish heels For a month I went all floppy just to see where I'd end up The morgue was my considered guess, or maybe Martinique The stern grind of reality however took its course I stayed exactly where I was and suffered endless Feltz Because you had a daughter, and chose to call her Rain Because you didn't indicate to go down Woodchurch Lane Your Am-Dram cla** has been postponed indefinitely Because the root of Jesse's just turned up in glorious majesty Singing Sealed Knot Society, let's see you try and do this one: Luton Town – Millwall, nineteen eighty-five Hand me down my silver trumpets Sound the revolution bell There's a Cher impersonator Rising up in Israel Late Lunch audience, we've got all your addresses! Lazy greedy farmers, pick your own strawberries! Is that our phone ringing, or is it on the telly? Let's do the bongo-laced twenty-second album Vreni Schneider – you're my downhill lady! Vreni Schneider – you're the queen of the slopes! Vreni Schneider – you're my downhill lady! Vreni Schneider – you're the queen of the slopes!