Strip the sky, I will hang out of the window See its pink veneer, hear the motorway soprano And the Front Street road pitches to the river bank The driver's side is hanging off and rusted And as for me I don't want to get adjusted So I'll head out of this cage before they shut the gate Keep up oh, keep up Keep up oh, keep up Mr. White, boy he's worth a packet But poor Joe's pickin' fleas off his mohair jacket Teaching them trapeze every Saturday in the square And I don't know why she's doing what she's doing Yeah I'm confused, is this rack or is this ruin? Call me when you decide you want her knees up round your ears Keep up oh, keep up Keep up oh, keep up Joe shakes his head says he don't know where the bones is You'll be six feet down before you catch up with the Jones's And there you are planning your big getaway So strip the sky I will hang out of the window See its pink veneer, hear the motorway soprano And the Front Street road pitches to the river bank Keep up oh, keep up Keep up oh, keep up Keep up oh, keep up Keep up oh, keep up