Skint in a material world
  I did a warehouse stint for Southsea Girl
  It was Hong Kong clothes for cash
  Everybody got treated worse than trash
  Punch the card in the company clock
  Load the trolleys and the company trucks
  And around and around the whole day through
  And you couldn't sit down when there was nothing to do
  
  Well they had beaten up people from every land
  Fools like me trying to be in bands
  A little french girl so good to me
  But I couldn't love her back so lonely
  A backpacker travelling through
  A lumberjack with the travelling blues
  We had worn out shoes and worn out cuffs
  And big ideas that were never big enough
  
  He said the man wants you go wash his car
  Hey you I'm talking to you
  I said me, not me uh uh
  No can do
  
  No can can do no can
  No can can do no can
  
  Now some were grown up unlike me
  And were dealing with reality
  I was spittin' sulkin' smokin' shirkin'
  While a lady from Jamaica was singing and working
  I had everyone but me to blame
  And every day was just the same
  Well nobody ever said it was a wighteous world
  But if they did they never said it at Southsea Girl
  
  He said the man wants you go wash his car
  Hey you I'm talking to you
  I said me, not me uh uh
  No can do
  
  No can can do no can
  No can can do no can
  
  Well I've made ,e bed on people's floors
  Opened up and closed some doors
  Dreamed that if my dreams came true
  The I wouldn't do waht I didn't want to
  Walking through the gates to the outside
  To dream some dreams that never died
  And I walked the streets of London town
  Looking for a place to put my head down