The judge sits in his spiral chair whizzing round and points out there's no time to waste.

The prisoner looks up in haste, the jury gives the man a taste of medicine.

He slims from ten eight to ten five and gets a five to jive *** ten and when it's a stretch too far behind the bars no wonder he feels under par,
A tonic mate?

No date for him however slim and he's locked up and wearing thin the jailhouse floor, but the judge forgets he sentences, eats lentils, drinks one more Buck's Fizz then goes to sleep and still the spiralling goes on until the five and private enterprise is all but gone.
That's the way.

If tomorrow is another day
for some it should come yesterday
That's the way.