Panic

Panic on the streets of London

Panic on the streets of Birmingham

I wonder to myself

Could life ever be sane again

The Leeds side-streets that you slip down

I wonder to myself

Hopes may rise on the Grasmeres

But Honey Pie, you're not safe here

So you run down

To the safety of the town

But there's panic on the streets of Carlisle

Dublin, Dundee, Humberside

I wonder to myself

Burn down the Disco

Hang the blessed D.J.

Because the music that they constantly play

It says nothing to me about my life

Hang the blessed D.J.

Because the music they constantly play

On the Leeds side-streets that you slip down

On the provincial towns you jog 'round

Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J.

Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J.