This is the place the rats come to die

This is the crossroads for you and I

To the left is a wilderness of animal fun

To the right is a vacuum of life in the sun

Behind is a dirt-track that was our survival

Ahead the fear-factories await our arrival

This is the place we'll be spending our time

They call it the hotel nineteen sixty nine

It's such a cute name for a nightmare machine

The bellboy wears jackboots and keeps the place clean

Behind is a dirt-track that was our survival

Ahead the fear-factories await our arrival

Reversal boys with frozen shoulders

Slouch around on sleazy corners

Wimpies, woolies, the High Street existence

Mainline resistance is low

Reversal boys with swollen shoulders

Rubbing up the late-night grocers

Mars Bars, players, organic existence

Mainline resistance is low

Reversal boys with cans of dog meat

Heavy breathing in the backstreet

Late night films and all night brainstorms

Mainline resistance is low

Reversal boys with frozen shoulders

Kicking sounds in moonlight bombsight

Mooney eyes and bombed-out brain box

Mainline trains could never find drivers

To run a service out to here