Possible chance, storm, possible chance, gale!
Welcome to Britain! In the third Millenium.
This is the diary of a Macedonian.
He went to Britain in the back of a lorry
Don't worry, don't worry, don't hurry,
Said the man with the plan.
He said, If you really wanna go,
You'll get there in the end.
If you really wanna go,
Alive or dead my friend,
Well you can levitate you know,
Long as the money's good you're in,
Or if you really wanna go,
You'll get there in the end.
He had the wooly scarf of Shaktar Donetsk,
Nay, the banner of freedom,
Wound around his neck,
Inherited from his father,
One of the Ukraine exiles of Yugoslavia.
Yo-oh, he's got a little postcard,
Yo-oh, everybody got a dream,
Yo-oh, he's always got it with him,
Yo-oh, It's of a nineteen twenty five...
...Red telephone box,
With Wembley in the background,
Them twin tower vandal-aye!
Will he find, a two bar heater,
Waiting for him, in two rooms,
Above the cut rate telephone anywhere place?
He got off the train in Shadwell,
Disappeared without trace.
He said, you'll get there in the end,
If you really wanna go,
Alive or dead my friend,
Oh you can levitate you know,
Long as the money's good you're in,
Or if you really wanna go,
You'll get there in the end.
Oiling the grinding city underside...
Treating each flake of rust all over Humberside...
You know how a blocked generator
Could cut power to the city system...