I could be the driver an articulated lorry   I could be a poet I wouldn't need to worry   I could be a teacher in a classroom full of scholars   I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs   What a waste   What a waste   What a waste   What a waste      CHORUS:   Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band,   First-night nerves every one-night stand.   I should be glad to be so inclined.   What a waste! What a waste!   But I don't mind.      I could be a lawyer with strategems and ruses   I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises   I could be a writer with a growing reputation   I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway Station   What a waste (x4)      Repeat CHORUS      I could be the catalyst that sparks the revolution   I could be an inmate in a long-term institution   I could dream to wide extremes, I could do or die   I could yawn and be withdrawn and watch the world go by   What a waste (x4)      Repeat CHORUS