Wading through the chaos to where the crones sit, It's where my bones fit, where I'm comfortable. No-one can deny me my natural instincts: They're what I'm drawn to, where I waste my time. Rationalise your own revolution: It can be easily compressed. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Make light of greedy promoters: They can be easily bypassed. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. That fly, that damned fly Makes me sick, leaves me compromised. There must be a logic behind the madness. If it's financial then it's deeply flawed. Someone should remind them that in this business Bad acoustics are an awful start. Rationalise your own revolution: It can be easily compressed. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Make light of greedy promoters: They can be easily bypassed. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. Touch his skin, he feels like a man. That fly, that damned fly Makes me sick, leaves me compromised. Rationalise your own revolution: It can be easily compressed. Without the young and the desperate, They won't have anyone left.