In nineteen hundred and eighty six  There's not much for a chippie but swinging a pick  And you can't live on love, on love alone  So you sail cross the ocean, away cross the foam    To where you're a Paddy, a Biddy or a Mick  Good for nothing but stacking a brick  Your best mate's a spade and he carries a hod  Two work horses heavily shod    Oh I'm missing you  I'd give all for the price of a flight  Oh I'm missing you  under Piccadilly's neon    Who did you murder, are you a spy?  I'm just fond of a drink helps me laugh, helps me cry  So I just drink red biddy for a permanent high  I laugh a lot less and I'll cry till I die    All ye young people now take my advice  Before crossing the ocean you'd better think twice  Cause you can't live without love, without love alone  The proof is round London in the nobody zone    Where the summer is fine, but the winter's a fridge  Wrapped up in old cardboard under Charing Cross Bridge  And I'll never go home now because of the shame  Of misfit's reflection in a shop window pane.