Queen Boadicea is long dead and gone.
Still now the sprit in her children's children's children lives on.
And if you've lost your faith and love of music oh the end wont be long.
Because if its come then I too may loose it and that would be wrong.
I've tried so hard to keep myself from falling back to my bad old ways,
and it chars my heart to always hear you calling,
calling for the good old days,
'cos there were no good old days,
these are the good old days.
It's not about tenements and needles,
or all the evils in the eyes and the backs of their minds
Daisy chains and schoolyard games, and a list of things we said we'd do tomorrow, a list of things we said we'd do tomorrow.
The arcadian dream, so fallen through
But the Albion sails on course
Let's man the decks and hoist the rigging.
Because the pig mans found the source,
And there's twelve rude boys on the oars.
They're singing "row row row"