live at the marquee

same thing happens every day, can't explain it any way, sun comes up day goes by, sun goes down and that's when i, come alive to the fact, that i've really got no control, i'm a live twenty fine, but i've still got no control, of me of you, control of the hole, that the post comes through, one stop here two stops there, one big scream and i'm back in my chair, i'm alive to the fact that, i've really got no control, i'm a live twenty five, but i've still got no control;, and we talk too much, and we won't let go, we relax too much, in the after glow, but we're alive at the marquee, live at the marquee, and it's just another country, but they change there times and sides, like the farcical feet of a marching band, so we're all getting cynical, their smiles may fade, but we don't care anymore, were a boys brigade, so we all die of cancer, for a few flowers outside, or a day in the life of a fruit machine, and we're all playing asteroids, there's a score on the screen, not a soul in the worlds gonna beat, but it wont stop me