['I Dig A Pygmy' by Charles Hawtrey and The Deaf Aids Phase One in which Doris gets her oats]
Two of us riding nowhere, spending someone's hard earned pay You and me Sunday driving, not arriving on our way back home We're on our way home, we're on our way home We're going home
Two of us sending postcards, writing letters on my wall You and me burning matches, lifting latches on our way back home We're on our way home, we're on our way home We're going home
You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead
Two of us wearing raincoats, standing so low in the sun You and me chasing paper, getting nowhere on our way back home We're on our way home, we're on our way home We're going home
You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead
Two of us wearing raincoats, standing so low in the sun You and me chasing paper, getting nowhere on our way back home We're on our way home, we're on our way home We're going home
