| There’s an empty seat on the train today that makes its way up to the town
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| There a letter found on an office desk that’s finally handed round
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| It says Julian Sidebottom William Smyth has finally come to his senses
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| He’s tired of commuting tired of computing tired of sitting on fences
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| He really needs some help he wants to find himself
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| And he says that money don’t matter
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| And there’s more to life than doing what’s right
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| He wants to do something for his children’s children something to remember him
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| by
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| And nobody wishes they spent more time at work when they finally lay down to die
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| And he’s downsized and analysed his last bottom line no longer will he be hard
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| hearted
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| He’s going to paint pictures of the Isle of Skye until the undersigned is
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| departed
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| He really needs some help he wants to find himself
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| And he says that money don’t matter
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| And there’s more to life than doing what’s right
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| So the years went by and Julian was forgot and one day his tea boy made it to
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| the boss
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| And to brighten his wall he hung pictures sometimes one of them the Isle of
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| Skye strangely unsigned
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| He really needs some help he wants to find himself
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| And he says that money don’t matter
|
| And there’s more to life than doing what’s right
|
| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
|
| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder
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| He’s going down down down Success’s ladder |