The car to drive right through the shops
To call in sick and late at work
And take a holiday

Was always tangled up in knots
To keep myself from speaking up
But no-one's listening anyway
Just trying to bribe me

And if it's alright, then what am I doing here
And if it's alright, this place is gassed by fear
And if it's alright, I'll tell you, cos you never understand
And if it's alright, I'll beg you, cos I'm a begging kind of man

Today I wrote a bad cheque
Packed a bag and took a jet
But no-one's looking anyway
I hope they miss me

[Sometimes I think maybe I'm making a big mistake