Hello and welcome to another show, If you switch off now you may never hear my voice again, Festering in a contented silence, living a lie with poetic licence, Passionless heart, no heaven no hell, a middle class hero, 'he's doing very well', A rapier wit spits out hollow cliche's,a disbelief in what he or she says, A fashionable cynic,he's seen it all,he's seen it all,he's seen it all before.
From the comfort of his mother's knee, to the status of his life perceived, Can his emptiness now make him see, pretentious mediocrity, A glimmer of light comes to him in the night as he lies awake, Hears the voices say....., 'Fate decides,only the mighty..DISOBEY'.
So you move up West and you get a flat and your hair turns green, 'But is it Art?', Or smart set city good money good sense, but who are you kidding with your pushing pens, Or life on the dole,the perfect alibi, excused from life you choose to die, do you know? Do you know, do you know, do you know, do you know, do you know? Disobey.
This evening Mr Palmer called, with his gold gilt calling card, He said he'd like to meet you, because he thinks you could be had, BUT remember telling stories, and remember playing games, And remember falling for falling in love, when you know she's never ever ever, ever coming back again, Disobey.