Lyrics:

I'm gonna grab myself an industry insider mask and blag my way
Into the after show
I wanna get in amongst the baying hordes of resting actors
Who've just got back from visiting Nairobi slums for Comic Relief
And now they're going to spend the next six weeks sitting in the vestibule
Waiting for the Farm Foods phone call
The Farm Foods phone call

I'm going to be apprehended by some mandatory galoot with a handheld camera
Who will point it in my face and say: 'Who are you, and what do you do?'
And I'll say 'I'm a counterblast to Agnosticism, how do you do'
And he'll go away immediately

I wanna meet Howard Marks if I can but they say that I can't
I need four different wrist bands

Follow me oh follow
Down to the hollow
And there we will wallow

There's a BritPop refugee
Walking up to me
And his face is hollow from seasons of disappointment
And he starts blathering on about his latest project
Already being dismissed by the most unlikeliest of cable stations
It's a dot com sitcom
About a hip hop chip shop

Chatto and Windus sitting in a tree
D-I-S-S-I-N-G
Keith Allen's autobiography

I'm just trying to break the drudgery of the downstairs maid
I'm just trying to write the sort of tune you can maybe hum while waiting for your lover on a railway platform

I wanna meet Howard Marks if I can but they say that I can't

Follow me oh follow
Down to the hollow
And there we will wallow

I want to perch myself halfway up a metal staircase with the Polydor girls
And talk about meerkats
And come out with statements like:
'Well of course music these days is the slave of mammon and as a result
It has become corrupt and shallow
Its real essence is industry
Its moral purpose is the acquisition of money
Its aesthetic pretext is the entertainment of those who are bored
And yes we're really excited about going back in to the studio
Hotly tipped, highly anticipated and slated for release'

I wanna meet Howard Marks if I can but they say that I can't
He's talking to Ian Broudie

And come four o'clock
If I'm still on my feet
There's a bloke over there
Who said I could meet...

Ken Livingstone

Well I'm just a primitive creature of the heath so excuse my savage ignorance
But if I'm still on my feet at four o'clock
I'll be stealing the lead off the roof

Follow me oh follow
Down to the hollow
And there we will wallow

Stealing the lead off the roof
Stealing the lead off the roof
Stealing the lead off the roof
Stealing the lead off the roof

Come saddle my milk white steed
I've seen much more than I need
And I know that you won't heed the call
So I sprayed it on to the wall

Thy damnation, slumbereth not
Thy damnation, slumbereth not
Thy damnation, slumbereth not
Thy damnation, slumbereth not