Lyrics

With the ease of a practiced smile
The tears of a crocodile
Well shake then wash your hands
Of the smell of foreign land

The propaganda woman said
It might be worse you could be dead
Now we’ve an impressive show
Let’s wind it up and watch it go

Still a strange thing to me
Is there’s no place I’d rather be
Roller coasting backwards to
Up and down and turning blue

No pie in the sky

For the small man gets smaller
But a poke in the eye

From an unwelcome caller

Policeman’s eyes on overload
A fractured island might explode
A million pieces washed ashore
From Disneyland to Warsaw

Let’s have a rehearsal run
An underground holiday in the sun
Take time to sit and reflect
A white wall where the sun collects

Still a strange thing to me
Well there’s no place I’d rather be
Roller coasting backwards to
Up and down and turning blue