My ideas are running out
I still don’t know what life’s about
They say I’ll find out when I die
That doesn’t stop me wondering why

Help! Help! Help! I need help!

I try to write a song on another theme
It goes wrong, just like a dream
Cos the police are hiding under my cover
If they don’t get me they’ll get another

They’re taking away my packet and bottle
Hands around the throat and starting to throttle
They’ve taken away my sporting thrills
And replaced them with dope and pills

They’ve closed my eyes to the world around
I can’t see my earth from their underground
They’ve closed our eyes to the death around
No one says anything cos we feel safe and sound