Turn left at the lights about 50 yards down There's a pub in the corner and I'll meet you inside About quarter to eight and we'll go into town And find out what everybody's been saying about us
Smalltown walls have eyes and ears Stories fly thick and fast round here Truth and lies are all the same Whatever you do don't rock the boat You've got to play the game, play the game
Chorus: Is it a crime to want something else? Is it a crime to believe in something different? Is it a crime to want to make things happen? To spit in the faces of the cynical fools
The incrowd know that the shell is thin So they all protect the cage they're in Get drunk and stoned and wrecked again No tears of rage, no cries of pain Nothing ventured, nothing gained In smalltown England Because the world outside the pint in hand Is all so hard to understand And if visions of the world come clear They're not allowed to interfere
Chorus: Is it a crime to want something else? . . .
The smell of hot food from the takeaway curry Diesel fumes from a passing lorry Waiting in the queue in the pouring rain For the chip shop up on Bowling Lane Well, last week we all got really smashed We couldn't stand up, it was a real laugh And this week's going to be just the same And the next and the next, again and again They say you've got to have fun while you're young