Moon In June (Versão especial para o programa Top Gear, da BBC)

I can still remember

The last time we played on Top Gear

And though each little song

Was less than three minutes long

Mike squeezed a solo in... somehow

And although we like our longer tunes

It seemed polite to cut them down

To little bits - they might be hits

Who gives an... after all?

Tell me how would you feel

In the place of John Peel?

You just can't please

all of the musicians all the time

Playing now is lovely

Here in the BBC

We're free to play almost as long and as loud

As a jazz group, or an orchestra on Radio Three

There are dancehalls and theatres

With acoustics worse than here

Not forgetting the extra facilities

Such as the tea machine, just along the corridor

So to all our mates like Kevin,

Caravan, the old Pink Floyd

Allow me to recommend 'Top Gear'

Despite its extraordinary name

Yes, playing, playing now is lovely

Here in the BBC

We're free to play almost as long and as loud

As the foreign language classes... and the John Cage interview...

and the jazz groups... and the orchestras on Radio 3

Pop stars drink each others' wine

Plough each others' earth

Hoping for companionship

And then perhaps rebirth

Plant seeds in fresher plots of earth

Bound up in concepts and dreams

And fears of worse things to come

They never do

They stay the same

Music-making still

Performs a normal function

Background noise for people

Eating and talking and drinking and smoking

That's all right by us

Don't think that we're complaining

After all it's only leisure time, isn't it?

I could almost sing this song

In a nice tone of voice

If I had to, I'd be glad to

It's awfully nice to be here

So let's open the beers and get tipsy

We'd be mad to

But if you sound refined

You just can't blow the mind of a kiddy

Or a young lady

And if you come from the sun

You just can't fool a mum into thinking

That you're alright, really

So before this feeling dies

Remember, I could be telling lies

Now, I love your eyes

See how the time flies

I think it's so great

You seem to change your fate

By working and playing

Something new in every way

Can be yours in a day

But I wonder what I'm really saying

So just before this feeling dies

Remember I may be telling lies

Falsehoods

White lies

Adverts

Idle chat

Banter

Half-truths

Rumours

And just lies, plain lies...

I shan't say...

One more word...

So instead... I'll play drums...