Arctic Monkeys - Fake Tales Of San Francisco

Fake tales of San Francisco Echo through the room More point to a wedding disco Without a bride or groom And there's a super cool band, yeah With their trilbies and their glasses of white wine And all the weekend rockstars are in the toilets Practicing their lines I don't want to hear you, kick me out, kick me out I don't want to hear you, no, kick me out, kick me out I don't want to hear you, kick me out, kick me out I don't want to hear you, I don't want to hear your Fake tales of San Francisco Echo through the air And there's a few bored faces at the back, all Wishing they weren't there And as the microphone squeaks A young girl's telephone beeps Yeah, she's dashing for the exit Oh, she's running to the streets outside "Oh, you've saved me", she screams down the line "The band were fucking wank and I'm not having a nice time" I don't want to hear you, kick me out, kick me out I don't want to hear you, no, kick me out, kick me out Yeah, but his bird said it's amazing though So all that's left Is the proof that love's not only blind, but deaf He talks of San Francisco, he's from Hunter's Bar I don't quite know the distance, but I'm sure that's far Yeah, I'm sure it's pretty far And, yeah, I'd love to tell you all my problem You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham So get off the bandwagon, and put down the handbook Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook, yeah