In nineteen hundred and eighty six There's not much for a chippie but swinging a pick And you can't live on love, on love alone So you sail cross the ocean, away cross the foam To where you're a Paddy, a Biddy or a Mick Good for nothing but stacking a brick Your best mate's a spade and he carries a hod Two work horses heavily shod Oh I'm missing you I'd give all for the price of a flight Oh I'm missing you Under Piccadilly's neon Who did you murder, are you a spy? I'm just fond of a drink helps me laugh, helps me cry So I just drink red biddy for a permanent high I laugh a lot less and I'll cry till I die All ye young people now take my advice Before crossing the ocean you'd better think twice Cause you can't live without love, without love alone The proof is round London in the nobody zone Where the summer is fine, but the winter's a fridge Wrapped up in old cardboard under Charing Cross Bridge And I'll never go home now because of the shame Of misfit's reflection in a shop window pane