in a smoke-filled room "how's it going then?"
it's not going at all we got no more gigs
you always knew it could be better
but you never thought it would end
it only happens cos of other people
all the money that they spend on david bowie lps
when i told her we were finished
she smoked a cigarette and sighed
"one last fag before we go home"
she said she loved me then she died
it doesn't happen like this
so you always get what you pay for
but the end result is always the same you lose everything you always wanted because you couldn't afford to pay
all the smoke-filled room contains dejected people with no aims
a bottle of gin, a packet of cigs

sing, brother, sing,
we got no more gigs
sing, brother, sing,
we got no more gigs

does it really matter?
do you really care?

-this blissful masterpiece brought to you by the SubHumAns
what's it to you?
who go