NO MORE GIGS 


In a smoke-filled room 
"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 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 couldn't afford to pay 
All the smoke-filled room contains
Dejected people with no aims a bottle of gin, 
A packet of cigs sing, brother, sing, 
We got no more gigs sing, brother, 
Sing, we got no more gigs 
Does it really matter? 
Do you really care? 

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