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
We're almost on the guest list
We're always stuck in traffic
We've watched our close a**ociates
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 with the 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 and he's losing all his hair
And Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons
In blood 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 d*** 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 are ways
We will proud remain, when the glory fades, when the glory fades
Yeah I am 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 it 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 evening
About fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all 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
We're almost on the guest list
We're always stuck in traffic
We've watched our close a**ociates
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 with the 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 and he's losing all his hair
And Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons
In blood 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 d*** 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 are ways
We will proud remain, when the glory fades, when the glory fades
Yeah I am 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 it 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 evening
About fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all 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.