I thought class was a British thing

I thought class was a British thing

I'm not afraid to ask

Townies think the world is made of grass



I thought bastard was a vulgar word

And something of the past

Cruel art students, stupid, sign it's cast



Everything is fractured now

You should be pissed off

In the world of godly Gallagher

"You've got to have it large"

Is that it?

Oh, instead of dance

They sit in tar



Here we go again

"Have a jar, bug eye"

"Fuck off, why should I?"

A once peasant's nation's pleasantries do not change



I thought class, it was a British thing

Something of the past

Through the times, the Moss will show his arse

I'd like to be somebody else

And not know where I've been

Whoever said that's worth a million quid

They must be

Trust me



It's harder now than it ever was

To get five people looking in the same direction



Make way for something new here!



A generation's come of age

You cannot capture moods

Your coat's a puff

Your bird's a shagging flu



Oh, hammered in the Market bar

The rubber millions sway

All the stars would shine if you opened up your eyes

All the stars would shine if you opened up your eyes

And simply say

Simply say



I thought bastard was a vulgar word

Something ancient, something past

I guess Belgium too was never built to last



I thought class was a British thing

I'm holding up my hands

But just in case that was the problem

I thought I'd better ask