So many people
With nothing to do
Hundreds of buildings
That block out my viewWatched by a tramp
With a hole in his shoe
Standing alone
On the cornerHe's thinking that work
Is all a big joke
While he looks in the gutter
For something to smokeAnd two hundred kids
In one red minimoke
Scream down the street
Fully loadedDay in the city
Oh, what a pityI could be in Berkshire
Where the poppies are so pretty
I could be in Berkshire
Where the poppies are so prettyI wish that
I was there
I wanna make
It out of therePeople like sardines
Packed in a can
Waiting for Christmas
That's made in JapanAnd I'm having trouble
With my apple flan
Sat in the cafe
On the cornerI walk through the green gates
And into the park
Where murderers crawl
After girls in the darkDown by the shed
I heard a remark
I turned on but no one
Could hear me, no oneDay in the city
Oh, what a pityI could be in Berkshire
Where the poppies are so pretty
I could be in Berkshire
Where the poppies are so prettyI wish that
I was there
I wanna make
It out of thereI wanna make
It out of there
I wanna make
It out of there