Ian Dury & The Blockheads What A Waste
I could be the driver in an articulated lorry
I could be a poet, I wouldn't need to worry
I could be the teacher in a classroom full of scholars
I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs
What a waste! What a waste!
What a waste! What a waste!
Because I tried to play the fool in a six-piece band
First-night nerves every one-night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
I could be a lawyer with stratagems and muses
I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises
I could be a writer with a growing reputation
I could be the ticket-man at Fulham Broadway station
What a waste! What a waste!
What a waste! What a waste!
Because I tried to play the fool in a six-piece band
First-night nerves every one-night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
I could be the catalyst that sparks the revolution
I could be an inmate in a long-term institution
I could lead to wide extremes, I could do or die
I could yawn and be withdrawn and watch them gullify
What a waste! What a waste!
What a waste! What a waste!
Because I tried to play the fool in a six-piece band
First-night nerves every one-night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
Chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First-night nerves every one-night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
Chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First-night nerves every one-night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
But the world don't mind
