Here's a ballad for the fallen For the fighting and brawling For the homesick, the lonely and few For the ones who come calling The downtrodden and crawling This one's going straight out to you Here's a song for the dreamers And late night drunken schemers For the bruised and the busted-arse flat For the washed up on the beaches torn apart at the seamers This is our tip of the hat Here's to you old rock and rollers Now out pushing strollers To you crooners in broken heart bands To you lost highway rambler And last dollar gamblers Here's a song for us all to hold hands ♪ Woah but all you goody two shoes You fuckers with no blues You hipsters and too cool for schoolers All you over insured And homeopathically cured You whimperers, cowards and fools All you snake oil sellers And fake fortune tellers False poets and seekers of truth All you artists of note Who've gone up in smoke While the ratings have gone through the roof All you straight arrow shooters And cheap sunday suiters You fortunate, blessed and adored All you champions of industry You preachers of ministry All you beautiful, black-tied and bored ♪ Woah all you great astronauts And you damn smarty sorts You heroes and over-achievers All you industry hacks Pat yourselves on the back For making a fool of believers All you ponderous weepers And lost wallet keepers You purveyors of doom and of gloom This heralds the day That you're all swept away Like the dust under God's mighty broom Woah