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What we built from
Black Country ground
In your car out
Of this small town

You on the back of
My new push-bike
Wheelie-ing
Down Thunder Road tonight

And I never felt so brave
On that unusually forgiving Sunday

What we built to
Keep ourselves warm
Burnt your hand and
Charmed the locals

All those mistakes
Laid out plainly
Anyone could see!
That the clamp was breaking me!

And one more time
For the record

Everybody's coming up
I guess I'm a little bit late to the party

Everybody's coming up
I guess I'm a little bit late to the party

Now everybody's coming up
I guess I should've had something else to say

And now everybody's coming up
What we built must fall to the rising flames

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