Faifley had a black cloud around it

There was nobody there and someone had stole the chimneys

Fifteen dogs ran up the street

Looking for the hepatitis hospital

And a cat with a bread poultice was singing shangalang backwards



The sunday mail says woodys in japan now

I'd made it through partic, whiteinch, scotstoun and yoker

I was here same as everyone

No more fags, no more giro, no more petrol