There'll be no songs about you
Your deeds will remain untold
The words that they use leave you limp and confused
And resigned to grow silently old

You could handle a weapon
You could lay down your life in a war
But you're fat now and weakened
By the code that they speak in
Not welcome in this land no more

[Chorus]
But pull on your shoes
The fair lands are calling
For the last man to fall toward them from the sun

You've got boring, unlovely depression
It blunts you and hobbles your will
It makes you feel sick to see these beautiful pricks
Build careers being beautifully ill

They flit and they flutter about you
They're offended and never ashamed
And everything's shit, and this shit I'll call Britain
Takes you sickness in place of your name
[Chorus]

Pull on your shoes
Leave no letters behind you
Leave the perfume, and the dancing, and run

And I know it seems like there's no one
And the street's too sweet to walk on
And you'll break it with your boots if you go
I know it seems like there's no one
And if there is then you don't know them
But I swear that there's someone, somewhere, someone