Tired feet trod rubbished streets Dreams pile up on garbage heaps Chain-smoked faces scream defeat Poverty's grammar Poundland's shut, bombed-out pubs Feral kids on zombie drugs Holidays in Wormwood Scrubs I want to fly away from this town tonight So high, so high I don't want to die in this English town tonight Cold English town Zero hours sufferers Stale depression haunts the bus "Immigrants, they're not like us" I heard someone say Pushing hard against the crowd Rush hour faces bring me down Hieronymus Bosch underground Prole horror surreal I want to fly away from this town tonight So high, so high I don't want to die in this English town tonight Cold English town ♪ La-la, la-la-la La-la, la-la La-la, la-la La-la, la-la La-la, la-la-la La-la, la-la ♪ Death on credit every day Walking dead on a living wagе Accept your lot and don't complain Drink yourself into an early gravе I want to fly away from this town tonight So high, so high I don't want to die in this English town tonight Cold English town I want to fly away from this town tonight So high, so high I don't want to die in this English town tonight Cold English town