Written by Joe Bexon
Now you've found your paradise,
Here is your reward, very nice,
You go outside, you polish your car,
Or sit by the fire, in your Shangrila.
Here's your reward for working so hard,
Gone are the lavatories in the back yard,
Gone are the days when you dreamed of that car,
You just want to sit in your Shangrila.
Put on your Slippers and sit by the fire,
You've reached the top, just can't get any higher.
You're in your place and you know who you are,
In your Shangrila
Sit back in your old rocking chair,
You need not worry, you need not care,
You can't go anywhere.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
The little man who gets the train, gotta mortgage hanging over his head,
But he's to scared to complain, 'cause he's conditioned that way.
Time goes by and he pays off his debts, he's got a TV set and a radio,
For fifteen pounds a week.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Put on your Slippers and sit by the fire,
You've reached the top, just can't get any higher.
You're in your place and you know who you are,
In your Shangrila
Sit back in your old rocking chair,
You need not worry, you need not care,
You can't go anywhere.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.
Shangrila. Shangrila. Shangrila la.