I thought class was a British thing
I'm not afraid to ask
Townies think the world is made of grass

I thought bastard was a vulgar word
And something of the past
Cruel art students, stupid, sign it's cast

Everything is fractured now
You should be pissed off
In the world of godly Gallagher
"You've got to have it large"
Is that it?
Oh, instead of dance
They sit in tar

Here we go again
"Have a jar, bug eye"
"Fuck off, why should I?"
A once peasant's nation's pleasantries do not change

I thought class, it was a British thing
Something of the past
Through the times, the Moss will show his arse
I'd like to be somebody else
And not know where I've been
Whoever said that's worth a million quid
They must be
Trust me

It's harder now than it ever was
To get five people looking in the same direction

Make way for something new here!

A generation's come of age
You cannot capture moods
Your coat's a puff
Your bird's a shagging flu

Oh, hammered in the Market bar
The rubber millions sway
All the stars would shine if you opened up your eyes
All the stars would shine if you opened up your eyes
And simply say
Simply say

I thought bastard was a vulgar word
Something ancient, something past
I guess Belgium too was never built to last

I thought class was a British thing
I'm holding up my hands
But just in case that was the problem
I thought I'd better ask