Those middle class roots won't go away
Those class conversations matter
Those middle class suits won't let you down Those middle class dreams they are in tatters
Those working class boots don't travel well That working class talk it has more passion Those working class girls won't let you down Those working class dreams they are in fashion
Staggering out to meet the tide, some drunken son of Humberside Who feeds off one-armed bandits now and cannot sober up Still he'll be staring out some greasy spoon with his face against the glass Or weeping like a child for that silly old past Cos it's lonely here without you, it's lonely here without you.