Woke in Dublin, the alarm was broken, hit the ground running
I said fuck that radio
Shoes untied, missed the cheap bus ride, but at least we tried
I guess it's time to go
One thing starts another falls apart
Like the cycles broken, spinning off its axle
Is three-fourths, a tour de force?
Enough to keep us going, the cycle goes on and on
E is quitting, and Johnny flew in, with no practicing
I said fuck that telephone
Still on track, in Pontefract, as a point of fact
I guess we're in control
Fuck that radio
Why does this always fall apart?
Why can't we just live and learn?