Well I have to confess that I'm no more or less than I ever was,
And if I seem to have given up hope then it's only because
I'm neither villain nor hero, just a face in the crowds of eternity,
But I've got tricks up my sleeve to turn the dreams of my youth to reality....
So it's the same old greasy spoon for my lunchtime heaven,
Where Drusilla's still serving up shite from eight 'til seven
The same old cardboard coffee, the same conversation.
The same old morning 'papers full of tits and lies.
The same old tunes of glory, the same tarnished pride.
The same ols faces stuffing chicken-'n'-chips or pies
And none of them has any name until one of them dies.
Time's moving on. I must make my bid for freedom.
No use sitting here waiting for life to come to me.
Opportunities only arise if you're willing to see them.
Well, I'm breaking free....!