Sometimes you've got to get away | If I had a car I'd drive it | To a place where they don't know my face | Change my clothes, my shoes, my hair and my name | But I'll stay next to you | Not sure what happens when we get there | We're just in love with going somewhere | And it's easy to grab fifteen seconds of fame | But the last nine or ten get so hard to sustain | I'll stay next to you | So long to princess mourners | Farewell you fuel protesters | And future generations will not appreciate your miniscule improvements to the living standards index that you earned at the expense of all their lives and all their children | Oh, we're not getting any younger | No, it's not getting any better | And if life's like a road full of hazards and bends why do we act surprised when it comes to an end | I'll stay next to you | So we leave the car and take the train and set off in the pouring rain | Travel light, standard class | Half the legroom, twice as fast | Look at the world that flashes by | The countryside, the power lines that seem to race along with you | Well it's near the end of the school day so I send a text back home to say | Sorry mum and dad and bro, I couldn't stay, I had to go | To London with someone | Before I come undone | Cos where I'm from's a humdrum town and I don't want to die | We're gonna work our way into the centre of the crowd | And I for one will be appalled if I'm not shocked at what's allowed | Disculture, so jammin' | No need to examine no magazine or tv screen to know what's going on