Strip the sky I will hang out of the window

See its pink veneer

Hear the motorway soprano

And the Front Street road pitches to the river bank

The drivers side is hanging off and rusted 

And as for me I don't want to get adjusted

So I'll head out of this cage before they shut the gate


Keep up oh

Keep up


Mr. White boy he's worth a packet

But poor Joe's pickin' fleas off his mohair jacket

Teaching them trapeze every Saturday in the square

And I don't know why she's doing what she's doing

Yeah I'm confused is this rack or is this ruin

Call me when you decide you want her knees up round your ears


Keep Up oh

Keep up


Joe shakes his head says he don't know where the bones is

You'll be six feet down before you catch up with the Jones's

And there you are planning your big getaway so

Strip the sky I will hang out of the window

See its pink veneer

Hear the motorway soprano

And the front street road pitches to the river bank