Lyrics:

Dream therapists
Is your lucky number seven
By any chance?
Do you think I once saw heaven
During critical surgery
When I walk towards a bright light
Cant get a hit?
Seems like what you gotta do
Is dial a Weller-gram and
Hell turn up at your show
Quite possibly, acoustically
Get up on the stage
And declare your band
To be a really good band
Fine shoes
Incredible tunes
Have a glass of Sass with
Paolo Hewitt
Flirt with brass
And later rue it
Wouldnt it be nice
To get home for Neighbours
Wouldnt it be nice
To play the Albert Hall
For ever
And ever

Shit Sellotape
Just dont know where it begins
And even when you do
It keeps on straying to the side
Good quality stationery
Never comes to my house
In bed again
Cant be bothered getting up
Swing the lead again
Im just waiting for the man
From Camelot
Telling me
That Ive won the Lottery
Lets trash
The Murder Mystery Weekend
Lets stage a couldnt-give-a-thon
Summertimes here
And Ive got no hassle
I could be a goth
On a bouncy castle
Wouldnt it be nice
To call off the Barn Dance
Wouldnt it be nice
To sabotage the
Hot Pot Supper

Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running
Monmore Hares Running