The sun sneaky sun run away in disguise and this guy's looking out, but no sun in the skies which are greystone
my eyes are the same.

I blame this ennui on my local MP who's as much use as a cork on the Titanic, he can talk of the energy crisis, but I have one of my own.
It's not fair that his hot air is wasted, it's not right that I don't have a bean or a light for the night.

it's unseemly that Queenie has billions and there's people that sleep on the street and no wonder the sun doesn't rise in the West when we're past our best and the wrapping's undone and who'd want to meet us in the streets of the potless? it's pointless but sharp all the same

The sun sneaky sun
somehow ceased to be fun
someone give me a gun,
bang.