Verse 1 You’re twitching blinds at the generic van, Convinced the driver has a master plan. That rainy pavement holds no secret code, Just puddles forming on the Old Kent Road. Chorus Oh, simmer down, you visual noise, Put away your spy-game toys. The High Street doesn't know your face, You’re sprinting in a one-horse race. Verse 2 You taped the webcam on your fractured screen, Afraid of viewers who remain unseen. That subtle clicking on the telephone? It’s just the echo of being all alone. Verse 3 The local boozer’s not a wire-tapped set, With agents smoking on a cigarette. Those hallowed rumours that you claim to hear? Just fizzing bubbles in a warm stale beer. Outro (Soft scat singing: Ba-da-ba-dap...) Nobody’s watching. Just sleep. (Whispered) You aren't that important.
