When the party is over we're the last ones to know
But the first ones to leave when the time comes to go
With scabs on our knuckles and grease in our hair
With rocks in our pockets we ain't going nowhere
With miles in the headlights and stones round our waist
With a left-handed awkwardness to Dover with haste
Blinking shortsightedly with a thousand-yard-stare
With no smiles on our passports 'cause we ain't going nowhere
We ain't going nowhere, not a hint of the breeze in our hair
Not a hint of a clue what to wear
We foolishly stare at the sun
Blinded by the glare, unable to see what we've done
Standing there trousers undone
English and foolish and dumb
Ignorant, arrogant, numb
We ain't going nowhere
Pulling together on both ends of a rope
While the crows in the guttering pull up the green shoots of hope
Signing crosses on ballot sheets like kisses on air
As we wave from the terminal, 'cause we ain't going nowhere
