Welcome to the city, my suburban queen Did you find it so exciting, the sub-proletarian scene Did you watch the dreamers dreaming, staring into thin air Always climbing ladders that should not be there? It's down to you So don't blame me It's the age-old story And it probably was the plan A suburban queen And a workin' man I'm as nutty as a fruit cake, and you're as mad as hell All my mates are thieving bastards, yours wear Chanel We moved into a flat near King's Cross, and we had the time of our lives But every good party comes to an end sometime Did you thrive upon our poverty, have orgasms over our despertation? And all the time you had a ticket back to that old suburban station Where you watch the dreamers dreaming, staring into thin air Always climbing ladders that should not be there