M5#1

You'll never see me trying to raise Cain

You'll never see me wear a suit of green

There's a slip-road up right ahead

Leading to the agragarian

But I'm city born and bred

Too many car-fumes in my head

Just a well-read punk peasant

But you'd think a country man would understand

The devil makes work for idle hands

M5 6-7 pm

And the man who pretends he knows it all

Is destined to a Mighty Fall

Gets into your house with cheer

Then proceeds to take all you've got to offer

This is not an autobahn

It's an evil roundabout

That leads to the Haywain

And you'll never see good trains again

In late 60s, my daddy said to me

You'll never see trams and clogs again

Now they roam the city

Can these people not understand

The devil makes work for idle hands

M5 6-7 pm

The devil makes work for idle hands

M5 to the country straight ahead

It's stuffed to the gills with crusty brown bread

Can they not understand

There's nothing worse than a bored man?

M5, 6-7 PM