Don't know what we were thinking, sneaking in the classic, no money to go drinking, wewere both thoracic, we entered through the exit, didn't care that we were spotted, bysome future Brexit, yeah, we told him to get marted, we sat down to savour our ill-gottengigs, passing round the smokes, feet up on the seats, here come the opening strings,of the theme to the elephant mind, the smoke-coloured can in our elephant mind.There's nothing like a bit of pitch, when you're feeling the pitch, it wasn't much ofa fun, it stopped us going round and round, the evening sun was sinking, in the deaththroes of the weekend, no money to go drinking, all we had was time to spend, we sat downto savour our ill-gotten gigs, passing round the smokes, feet up on the seats, here comethe opening strings, of the theme to the elephant mind, the smoke-coloured can in our elephantmind.