Queue stretches on a mile ahead Everybody's waiting for their daily bread I will never step out, I might lose my place I've got my reservation in the human race Make roo-oo-oo-oo-oom I'm sure that I've been standing in this corridor before Waiting for my turn to go and knock on the door My heart's pumping, beating eight-to-the-bar It's much too late so drink up now, and sink so far Make roo-oo-oo-oo-oom Euuuurghhhna na na na na Ask Samuel Beckett about the human condition I'm not in the position to talk about that I've been standing on my head But the world looks no different Stupid parliaments with arguments And idle chatchatchatchatchat Make roo-oo-oo-oom You took the stand in line As they stamp you on the head Everybody's waiting for their daily bread It makes no difference who you are, They'll put you in your place I've got my reservations on the human race Make roo-oo-oo-oom Euuuurghhhna na na na na (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemake) Room (Makemakemakemakemake) Room