You tell me "Keep an open mind" – oh, please
I look best in a bonnet buzzing with bees
I don't care what clever Dicks say
I'll keep my idées firmly fixées
The Judge rides again
My hobby-horse between my knees
I'm trying to ride the whirlwind, tame the gale
I'm bumping into things, I'm parking in Braille
Maybe I'm riding blind
At least I know my own mind
The Judge rides again
My hobby-horse is hitting the trail
Gee up, Silver
Ride the whirlwind
Yes, there's a dozen points of view, old son
That's until you know the answer, then there's just one
True is true and lies are lies
And damn the Great British Compromise
The Judge rides again
And riding hobby-horses is fun
You think I'm a beastly bore I s'pose it's true
Categorical, dogmatic, pig-headed, mule-ish – help, I'm a zoo!
You put it down to middle age
"Don't set him off; don't rattle his cage"
The Judge rides again
His hobby-horse is galloping through
You're proud your mind is open wide
You seize each new idea and stuff it inside
You prove, beyond all doubt
Garbage in means garbage out
Higho Silver, Away! Scuse me, I gotta ride
Oh I gotta ride, oh I gotta ride, oh I gotta ride