Woke up this morning and found myself in bed.
My knowledge of the blues is somewhat nil.
I dreamt about about a love-affair
In far-off Budapest.
The sort of thing that shudders every pill.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I went dans la cuisine, in a bi-linguistic mood.
And Morphy Richards showed up with the goods.
I was feeling hungry both this morning and last night,
with an appetite like that you see the woods.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
Is this the bit where we're supposed to make guitars collide, and
Is this the bit where we release all that raw energy, and
Is this the bit where we go crashing through those barriers,
Like wot they do in music mags?!