1967
In 1967
In 1967
The clock's ticking by, I'm thirty five
I think we should have a child soon
In 1967
No pop in our record collection
The Beatles and Stones mean nothing to us
I think we should count our blessings
In 1967
In 1967
My wife's expecting
A Surrey midwife delivers the child
I'll get a job in Yorkshire
In 1967
No pop in our record collection
No colour section
In our record collection
Ho
In 1967
No pop in our record collection
Some people have died,
Some people have gone
Our Spring is in a cardboard box
Present time
I'll apologise to the nation
We are bedazzled,
We're ordering cocktails
We act like peasants
1999
No pop in our record collection
Records on the radio station
It means nothing to us
I think we should count our blessings
Since 1967
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)
In 1967
(The clocks ticking by, I'm thirty five)