the digital cuckoo - david rotheray lyrics
the digital cuckoo hastens in the spring
i must admit, i kind of miss
the way he used to sing, he used to sing, he used to sing
one day, we’ll play
with tennis racquets made of wood
and footb-lls of brown leather
we’ll fly our little plane on one propeller
all these things have changed for good
good but not for better, good but not for better
forever changing, is that man of great ambition
death and blinding managing, to be held in one position
but when i exercise my feet, i like to recognise my street
i’m now so acquainted with my prison
the digital rooster, welcomes in the day
i must confess, i love him less
each time i wake this way, i wake this way, i wake this way
one day, we’ll play
with tennis racquets made of wood
and footb-lls of brown leathe
we’ll fly our little plane on one propeller
all these things have changed for good
good but not for better, good but not for better
forever changing, is that man of great ambition
death and blinding managing, to be held in one position
but when i exercise my feet, i like to recognise my street
i’m now so acquainted with my prison
he used to sing, he used to sing…
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