Release The Bumpkin Inside
Treading the riot torn streets craving lashings of ginger beer
Your heart strings tugging, where's my wax jacket, where are my seceteres?
You feel an uncontrolable urge to role big lumps of cheese down a hill
A roll in the hay is worth ten in the rodedendrem
The insect bites don't seem to irritate quite as much as you feel they ought to
Maybe it's time, maybe it's time to
Release the bumpkin inside of you
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside of you
Make a break for the tube station, run for the hills!
Where the air cuts through your lungs like a scythe
Crusty cowpat trails are like manor from heaven to these eyes
Throw another dogs tail on the barbie
Pour another glass of that delicious grass hopper wine
Pull up a stump and we can talk crop circles until the cows sit down
Maybe it's time, maybe it is the time to
Release the bumpkin inside of you
Release the bunmpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside of you
That tree knows your inner most thoughts
Your secret desires and most devious mistermeanours
And the darkness by night makes the world stand still in your mind
like the calm after the train ride
Your soul-mate is a scarecrow, wipe those muddy footprints off the kitchen lino
Your soul-mate is a scarecrow
Release the bumpkin inside of you
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside of you
Wiping the McDonlads juice off your work tie
You will these vultures to be dragonflies
This city grind embedded in your skull it can be tempered with strong country brews
Pockets bulge with the broken notes, it's like the scattering of the seeds when you get home
The evil seeds of your city toil that makes your blood run cold
It makes your blood run cold
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Release the bumpkin inside, oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
On the village war memorial you scratched your initials
Scrumpy haze and pig shit smells, don't ask the time just listen for the church bells
Just listen to the church bells
Oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
Oooaaarrr, oooaaarrr
MtM 2002