Fake Tales of San Francisco
Fake tales of San FranciscoEcho through the roomMore point to a wedding discoWithout a bride or groomThere's a super cool band yeahWith their trilbys and their glasses of white wineAnd all the weekend rockstars are in the toiletsPracticing their lines
I don't want to hear you(Kick me out, kick me out)I don't want to hear, you know(Kick me out, kick me out)I don't want to hear you(Kick me out, kick me out)I don't want to hear youI don't want to hear your...
Fake tales of San FranciscoEcho through the airAnd there's a few bored faces in the backAll wishing they weren't there
And as the microphone squeaksA young girl's telephone beepsYeah she's dashing for the exitAnd she's running to the streets outside"Oh you've saved me," she screams down the line"The band were fucking wankeredAnd I'm not having a nice time."
I don't want to hear you(Kick me out, kick me out)I don't want to hear, you know(Kick me out, kick me out)
Yeah but his bird thinks it's amazing, thoughSo all that's leftIs the proof that love's not only blind but deaf
He talks of San Francisco, he's from Hunter's BarI don't quite know the distanceBut I'm sure thats farYeah I'm sure thats pretty far
And yeah, I'd love to tell you all of my problemYou're not from New York City, you're from RotherhamSo get off the bandwagon, and put down the handbookYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbookGet off the bandwagon and put down the handbookGet off the bandwagon and put down the handbookGet off the bandwagon and put down the handbookYeah