Safety in numbers together
Nobody can tell us if we’re thick or if we’re clever
See him, victim, shouting
Telling all the people that we’re meeting in a field
Safety in numbers together
Nobody can tell us if we’re thick or if we’re clever
See him, victim, shouting
Telling all the people that we’re meeting in a field
And we are foolishly drawn
We’ll meet, we’ll talk, we’ll rush
The gods of not very much
We’ll meet, we’ll talk, we’ll rush
The gods of not very much
A strange dude in brown shoes with holes through
Stands at speaker’s corner with a memo tape recorder
Nightfall, the crowd come, his bible
Opened at a page that says he made us all the same
How funny, ironic, the crowd they
They agree to differ as they’re wearing the same t-shirt
Fit in, convention, nothing
You’re just talking rubbish and you know that you’re not
Playing with us
‘cos we’re the gods of not very much
