And the games still go on
With a warning
to the bishop from the pawn
No one sees an angel
till it smashes to the ground
And then you run somewhere
And leave it lying there
Then on we sail
Never thinking
that the wind could ever fail
No one gets to heaven
till they've lived awhile
in hell
And even then it's rare
That you'll be going there
<Interlude>
Now we understand
All traces of Magica
must be eliminated
Infection. Infection
Delete, delete,
delete, delete, delete
delete delete delete delete
cked down
and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself
just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser
world of bigger motor cars
<Intelrude>
So Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him
last Saturday
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though
They're all resting down
in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual
See there! A man born