together fall apart. And in Battersea power station, the fisher king. Ponders on his ruin, among many other things. He folds his broken hands, . Surveys his barren lands, . And prays for hope to whisper
Chorus. Hands up, hands up. Everybody now, let me see your hands up. Everybody now, let me see your hands up. Everybody now, let me see your hands up, right now. Hands up, hands up. Everybody now, let