I am the small town linesman
And you'll find me out here on the line
Searching ceaselessly to simply
Find a place I can call mine
And every corner of this country
Criss crossed out with coloured lines
The city lies before me
Another city sprawling out behind
I am a frontiersman
Trapped in suburban England
Since the Scramble ended
Since the West was won with wagon trails
It seems Mazzini's paradisical
Panopticon prevailed
My walkabouts no longet take me
Beyond a choice of different gaols
Why should I have to choose a state
When every one of them has failed
I am a frontiersman
Trapped in suburban England
And I promise not to overthrow the state
If allowed to redraw the atlas before
I emigrate
So I have sailed the seven seas alone
Trying to find a shore I can call home
But all I found are different flags
Double speaking diplomats, and
I do not have time for that
So I'll declare my own sovereign state
The borders based on the bottoms of my boots
And I will open embassies
Wherever the hell I please
And at assemblies
You will see me sat
But never on my knees
I am a frontiersman
Trapped in suburban England
And I promise not to overthrow the state
If allowed to redraw the atlas before
I emigrate
And I'd gladly leave your Metternich's alone
as long as where I lay my head I can be my very own
I am the Winchester lineman
I am a frontiersman
Trapped in suburban England
But here I will not remain
I'll ride into the sunset
My horse waits on the plain
And I keep walking the line