Burning with inspiration
There's a secret nation
Deep within suburban England
Fashioning major projects
Made with household objects
Pa**ing by you'll never see them
Whiling away the hours
Down amongst the flowers
Masters of their private kingdoms
Ever the unsung heroes
Quiet men with secret lives
Locked in the garden shed and
Rarely seen by mousy wives
Pouring the best intentions
Into strange inventions
Isolation feeds their thoughts now
Pushing the bounds of science
Out of sheer defiance
Make their mark on history somehow
Never commanded praise
Or gained respect for all their work
But hoping against all odds
The meek inherit all the earth
The pioneers of innovation
Seldom see the daylight shine
Hail the kings of pure creation
Minds are locked on great designs
Simple minded, undivided
Turning water into wine
They pave the way to greater knowledge
Lives are lost in grand designs
When cynics voice their doubts
That this is idle dreaming
The flame will not go out
They'll never stop believing now
No cause to put them down
For lives so undemanding
Driven so far underground
Just need some understanding words
Needing to take a step back
From facing human contact
Been outsiders since their school days
And never the main attraction
For social interaction
Best ignore the things that kids say
Tied to a 9 to 5 land to keep their dreams alive
And fight their demons in their own way
So back in the dead end job it's
Monday morning pouring rain
As all the weekend warriors
Rush to board the London train
The pioneers of innovation
Seldom see the daylight shine
Hail the kings of pure creation
Minds are lost in grand designs
Single minded, undivided
Misunderstood and still maligned
They hold the blueprint of the future