There’s a girl I’m told who rolls her eyes at the Gok Wan acolytes
Underneath her bed there lies a collection of ammonites
And she lives somewhere you wouldn’t wanna get stuck
That can’t be found in the Domesday Book
Cromwell’s troops never billeted there
 [bad word] Turpin never had Bess shoed where
This girl I’m told rolls her eyes at the Gok Wan acolytes

This spoon in my drawer, a reminder of childhood
Stayed loyal down the years in a way others never could
The wine has coiled its way around my understanding
And I’m deaf to your libertarian jeers
They should just brick Jim Beglin up with the Gok Wan acolytes
Brick him up

She in signal red
Me in drab olive
We made our way from Loggerheads to Hope
Blue skies, good underfoot
I played my sackbut
Somewhat unwittingly kindled the [bad word] 
Through my haphazard ways
I’d set the woods ablaze
But I’d had the best of days
Along the trail
And I feel retiring her would constitute a crime
And I know Chesil Beach is far away in time
And now I’ve found these androids empathise, understand and realise
So it’s really no surprise
I’ve got one that rolls its eyes
At the Gok Wan acolytes