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 solo 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 solo 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
We’re going home You better believe it Goodbye