1967

In 1967
In 1967
The clock's ticking by, I'm thirty five
I think we should have a child soon

In 1967
No pop in our record collection
The Beatles and Stones mean nothing to us
I think we should count our blessings
In 1967

In 1967
My wife's expecting
A Surrey midwife delivers the child
I'll get a job in Yorkshire

In 1967
No pop in our record collection
No colour section
In our record collection
Ho

In 1967
No pop in our record collection
Some people have died,
Some people have gone
Our Spring is in a cardboard box

Present time
I'll apologise to the nation
We are bedazzled,
We're ordering cocktails
We act like peasants

1999
No pop in our record collection
Records on the radio station
It means nothing to us
I think we should count our blessings
Since 1967

In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)