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