Last song, on the setlist
Hope it'll be 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'
So I turn it around
And wouldn't it be fun anymore
I'm going to lose that door

But I've turned it over from 'Freebird'
Cos we don't play 'Teen Spirit'
And we don't know why
But I been just down for 30 odd hours now but I don't even care
And I don't even know
I've been walking on miles

Cos songwriters, they don't give a shit
No Brummies, they can give a shit
No Chicagoans, they can piss off
But I understand this song's 'Emerald'

Last song, on the set list
Don't get me started on 'Firestarter'
Cos you're writing a song, and I gaff about
So I start to sing along
And the cigarettes and alcohol are preggers but I can't be anywhere else

I know where it is to be for 78 years now
But I don't know why
I can shit myself

Because Londoners, they can fuck off
Yorkshiremen, they can eat my shit
New Yorkers, they look absolutely shit
But Jeff Buckley sounded total trash

Last song, on the setlist
I know it's going to encore now
It's a great fat night
Because I wrote 'Semi Charmed Life'
Now I, I turn around
We're going to headline glastonbury
Not V Festival
Cos that's a TOTP ripoff these days

Lol