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“Come now, Vince”, she said “We can’t continue in this way Seems to me there’s something on your mind Should I accept a ride In a tiny craft about your head Tell me, Vince, the truth What would I find?” Horse-drawn yawns upon the driveway Victory V ice cream in stock Eintracht Oblong, I should oil my chain Our front door is Sagittarius, Tibor’s kids are underfed And Heswall Flower Club owe me one pound twelve This is what you’d find If you were in that craft today Doubtless different were you to return I would not blame you in the least If you cut short the flight Make good your escape It’s not your concern Where’s the beetroot? Where the ibex? Dubbing mixer Freddie Slade Alpine lockjaw, it was on the cards Can I buy inflatable dictators anywhere round here? SongtexteIron Age mums are haunting my cagoule Do stew, scoop up the roadkill Straight sets, jet-wash the Viceroy Sore heel, shite on the back nine Midge Ure looks like a milk thief I said Midge Ure looks like a milk thief Come on, Midge Ure looks like a milk thief You’re a fine looking woman, Mirabelle Midge Ure looks like a milk thief You still with that chiseller Idris? Midge Ure looks like a milk thief Hey, he’s got the ginger beer concession outside the British Museum Midge Ure looks like a milk thief We should go to Halfords some time Midge Ure looks like a milk thief You and me – not him Midge Ure looks like a milk thief Midge Ure looks like a milk thief Aus Songtexte Mania