Fake tales of San Francisco echo through the room,
More point to a wedding disco without a bride or groom,
and there's a supercool band yeah with their trilbys and their glasses of white wine,
And all the weekend rockstars are in the toilets practising their lines.

I don't want to hear you kick me out, kick me out,
I don't want to hear you no kick me out, kick me out,
I don't want to hear you kick me out, kick me out,
I don't want to hear you
I don't want to hear your

Fake tales of San Francisco echo through the air,
There's a few bored faces at the back all wishing they weren't there,
And as the microphone squeaks a young girl's telephone beeps,
Yeah she's dashing for the exit,
Oh she's running for the streets outside,
Oh you saved me' she screams down the line,
"The band were f___ing w___ and I'm not having a nice time"

I don't want to hear you kick me out, kick me out,
I don't want to hear you no kick me out, kick me out,
and oh his bird thinks it's amazing, oh so all that's left,
Is the proof that love's not only blind but deaf.

He talks of San Francisco he's from Hunters Bar,
I don't quite know the distance, but I'm sure that's far,
Yeah, I'm sure that's pretty far.
And yeah, I'd love to tell you all my problems,
You're not from New York City you're from Rotherham,
So get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook,
Yeah yeah yeah yeah!

Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook,
Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook,
Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook,
Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook,
Yeah

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