Let's begin at the beginning
We're lovers and we're losers
Heroes and we're pioneers
We're beggars and we're choosers
Skirting round the edges of the ideal demographic
And we're almost on the guest list
But we're always stuck in traffic
We've watched our close associates
Often play their parts...
Chatting up the "it" girls
And they're tearing up the charts
While we were playing with coppers to get our rounds in at the bar
We're the "C-team,"
We're the "almost famous"
"Old friends of the stars"...
Justin is the last great romantic poet...
He's the only one among us who is ever gonna make it
We planned the revolution from a cheap Southampton bistro
I don't remember details, but there were English boys with banjos
Jay is our St. George and he's standing on a wooden chair
And he sings songs and he slays dragons, but he's losing all his hair
And Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons
In plaid instead of rhinestone and living in South London
And no one's really clear about Tommy's job description
But it's pretty clear he's vital to the whole damn operation
And Dave Danger smiles at strangers,
Tre's the safest the girl I know
And Zo and Harps will scamper off to victory in the City we call home...
And we won't change our ways.
We will proud remain.
When the glory fades
When the glory fades...
Yeah, I'm sick and tired of people who are living on the "B-list"
Yeah, they're waiting to be famous and they're wondering why they do this--
And I know I'm not the one who is habitually optimistic
But, I'm the one who's got the microphone here
So, just remember this--
Well, life is about love--lost minutes and lost evenings...
About fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering
And they help us with remembering that the only thing left to do is:
Live
After all the loving and losing
After all the heroes and the pioneers
The only thing that's left to do is:
Get another round in at the bar.
We're lovers and we're losers
Heroes and we're pioneers
We're beggars and we're choosers
Skirting round the edges of the ideal demographic
And we're almost on the guest list
But we're always stuck in traffic
We've watched our close associates
Often play their parts...
Chatting up the "it" girls
And they're tearing up the charts
While we were playing with coppers to get our rounds in at the bar
We're the "C-team,"
We're the "almost famous"
"Old friends of the stars"...
Justin is the last great romantic poet...
He's the only one among us who is ever gonna make it
We planned the revolution from a cheap Southampton bistro
I don't remember details, but there were English boys with banjos
Jay is our St. George and he's standing on a wooden chair
And he sings songs and he slays dragons, but he's losing all his hair
And Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons
In plaid instead of rhinestone and living in South London
And no one's really clear about Tommy's job description
But it's pretty clear he's vital to the whole damn operation
And Dave Danger smiles at strangers,
Tre's the safest the girl I know
And Zo and Harps will scamper off to victory in the City we call home...
And we won't change our ways.
We will proud remain.
When the glory fades
When the glory fades...
Yeah, I'm sick and tired of people who are living on the "B-list"
Yeah, they're waiting to be famous and they're wondering why they do this--
And I know I'm not the one who is habitually optimistic
But, I'm the one who's got the microphone here
So, just remember this--
Well, life is about love--lost minutes and lost evenings...
About fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering
And they help us with remembering that the only thing left to do is:
Live
After all the loving and losing
After all the heroes and the pioneers
The only thing that's left to do is:
Get another round in at the bar.
jp:
I love the Onion News. Shit cracks me up.