Fake tales of San Francisco   Echo through the room   More point to a wedding disco   Without a bride or groom      There's a super cool band yeah   With their trilbys and their glasses of white wine   And all the weekend rock stars are in the toilets   Practicing their lines      I don't want to hear you   (Kick me out, kick me out)   I don't want to hear you no   (Kick me out, kick me out)      I don't want to hear you   (Kick me out, kick me out)   I don't want to hear you   I don't want to hear you      Fake tales of San Francisco   Echo through the air   And there's a few bored faces at the back   All wishing they weren't there      And as the microphone squeaks   A young girl's telephone beeps   Yeah she's dashing for the exit   Oh she's running to the streets outside      "Oh you've saved me," she screams down the line   "The band were fucking wanking   And I'm not having a nice time?      I don't want to hear you   (Kick me out, kick me out)   I don't want to hear you no   (Kick me out, kick me out)      Yeah but his bird thinks it's amazing, though   So all that's left   Is the proof that love's not only blind but deaf      He talks of San Francisco, he's from Hunter's Bar   I don't quite know the distance   But I'm sure that's far   Yeah I'm sure it's pretty far      And yeah I'd love to tell you all my problem   You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham   So get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook      Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook   Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook   Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook   Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook