"How's it going then?" (Hahaha)
 It's not going at all
 We got no more gigs
 You always knew it could be better
 But you never thought it would end
 It only happens cos of other people
 All the money that that they spend
 On David Bowie LPs

 When I told her we were finished
 She smoked a cigarette and sighed
 "One last fag before we go home"
 She said she loved me then she died
 It doesn't happen like this

 So you always get what you pay for
 But the end result is always the same
 You lose everything you always wanted
 Because you caouldn't afford to pay
 All the smoke-filled room contains
 Dejected people with no aims
 A bottle of gin, a packet of cgs
 Sing, brother, sing, we got no more gigs

 Sing, brother, sing, we got no more gigs
 Does it really matter?
 Do you really care