| Don’t speak to me of changing scenes
|
| Or what you saw in magazines
|
| I’ve watched your change
|
| Follow every move, oh
|
| A dancing clown
|
| Where design turns you round
|
| To spend a lifetime keeping hold
|
| Of slipping years and not get old
|
| You hear the cry but can’t be told
|
| You’re only chasing
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well
|
| And if you felt the sympathy
|
| And if you saw what othres see
|
| Through different eyes
|
| You might see something true, new
|
| An emtpy shell
|
| With no taste and no sell
|
| You try the stance of those you know
|
| But dance the dance of those below
|
| You lost your grip but won’t let go
|
| You know you’re chasing
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho
|
| Hey ho
|
| Hey ho you wear it well
|
| Hey ho you wear it well
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well
|
| After a fashion
|
| After a fashion
|
| Hey ho, you wear it well |