God Is A Concept By Which We

Now, In The Sixties We Were Naive, Like Children. Everybody Went Back To Their Rooms And Said 'we Didn't Get A Wonderful World Of Just Flowers And Peace And Happy Chocolate, And It Won't Be Just Pretty And Beautiful All The Time,' And Just Like Babies Everyone Went Back To Their Rooms And Sulked. 'we're Going To Stay In Our Rooms And Play Rock And Roll And Not Do Anything Else, Because The World's A Nasty Horrible Place, Because It Didn't Give Us Everything We Cried For.' Right? Crying For It Wasn't Enough.

Sitting In An English Garden Waiting For The Sun If The Sun Don't Come You Get A Tan From Standing In The English Rain.

Sitting On A Cornflake, Waiting For The Van To Come...

If You Could Drink Dreams Like The Irish Streams Then The World Would Be High As The Mountain Of Morn In The Pool They Told Us The Story How The English Divided The Land.

Tame Birds Sing Of Freedom. Wild Birds Fly.