Lyrics:

CROWD:
We demand a universal Grid! We demand a universal Grid!
We demand a universal Grid! We demand a universal Grid!
RAY:
ID - Ray High, Gridlife Chronicles. November the tenth, 1992. I'm working on my own in here, going over some old music I did in 1970. It's got something, something special. I could really dream then. It ain't such a bad dream either
RAY:
I've been completely degraded by chasing publicity. Degraded! Yeah, I'll never go back. I know too much, I know how it's done. I can't discover it all over again, make it seem new
RASTUS:
You're great, Ray. You know that, man. Here, hold up. This is the place
RAY:
What? Can't go in here. That bloody cow Ruth Streeting uses this club. She hates my guts
RASTUS:
It's her job to hate your guts; she's a journalist. It's nothing personal. Oh sod it, I forgot, of course she won't be here. She's in the States. Oh c'mon, well let's go in anyway. We've got to get back in the mainstream sometime. Come on, you own shares in the place
RAY:
That cow wrote that I'm ugly
RASTUS:
Well, you are ugly
RAY:
I'm not

RASTUS:
Yes, you are
RAY:
No, I'm not!
RASTUS:
Well, you are, actually
RAY:
Oh bollocks. Oh, let's go in