The Fall online - Discography

He can never go home
He can never go home

Stranded in South America
Nothing to go home for
Just another Brit in the bar
Hernandez Fiendish comes over to me
Offers a job as broadcaster
That's how I came to be

Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
But is O.K. by him
The generals have many enemies
And them I single out
What does it concern me about?
Good riddance to my native country
It never did a thing for me
It's a better life here
And I am not a traitor

Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
Now here is his show

Hey you people over there
And those in sea and air
It has been theirs for years
It is a good life here
Football and beer much superior
Gringo gets cheap servant staff
Low tax and a dusky wife

Intelligentsia
Although your radio has been jammed
I heard talk about by chance
You educated kids know what you're on about
You've been oppressed for years
I hear Rosso-Rosso over there
And you have cha-cha clubs
You should hear the rosso-rosso stuff
I understand you

I'm from a town called
Mmmm
Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
He can never go home

One point is made here
The scourge of rosso-rosso
So what if I do propaganda?
After a few steins I feel better
But that broken down fan
They never fix it, them dumb Latins
There's a bayonet beside my head
There's a guard in the annex
Marquis Cha Cha
He never did go home

Some people want stars in eyes
Some people want eyes in stars
They've been like that for years
They've been like that for years
I suspect they're just if if if
I just want room to live

There's a new club in town
Plenty of space to posy around
It's a copy of the Peppermint Lounge
(I'll stick around the center always
Even if it is run down.)
Some people wanna be joining the club
Thinks to be on the clientele is big
I just want room to live

Foreigners and Experts go in
And through my place
Turn my home into a museum
Like the murder squad
They scan the room
For the well of inspiration
They don't tolerate ordinary folk
and folk look at me strange
But I'll give them this at least:
They pay for what they eat
Visitors and peripherers never give
I just want room to live

Some people think happy is way to live
Some men want to cram up to women
I've been down that street before
It just makes meat out of the soul
There's a D.H.S.S.S. Volvo estate
Right outside my door
With a Moody Blues cassette on the dashboard
There's no hate to the point I give
I just want room to live

Violence is just waiting for its due

Some people want money around
You can tell, they're the ones that never buy a round
And some men want reporters with no wig
And some people cannot hold their drink
They've got to tell you what they think
And some men want reporters with no wig
I just want room to live