Из альбома: Apple Plum Blood Pudding
We had always been musicians
Then we played the right gig
All the New York papers said
It's a cinch they'll make it big
We jumped in our econo-line
Went out west in record time
That promoter robbed us blind
Headed north without a dime
We all thought we'd make it big
High as kites and filthy rich
We all thought we'd make it big
Washing dishes paid for gas
Even played a Catholic mass
Saved enough to make the drives
Still we waited for our prize
In Vancouver we reigned supreme
They liked us better than their queen
The ferry to Victoria
Had free hot dogs and cole slawWe all thought we'd make it big
High as kites and filthy rich
We all thought we'd make it big
Failure never crossed our minds
Like the horse races
We kept on the blinders
The band split up in Washington
Because the van broke down
Everyone hitch hiked home
SOld Guitars and our clothes
Most of my family keeps on asking
They just want to hear me spout
Well I say it's pretty simple
I got chewed up and spit out
We all thought we'd make it big
High as kites and filthy rich
We all thought we'd make it big
Fatted calves and stuffed pigs