Can't go home right now, and that's the truth Julie Burchill is drinking free champagne on my roof. And the front door's off limits, at least to the likes of me So you see right here, right here, This is my story... Slept in a stranger's flat in all my clothes, And in the morning took a bus across the city To feel safer and closer to home. Passed a sign on the door, and a couple more Saying "Welcome To Hard Times" "Welcome To Hard Times" And I thought of a friend Whose window looked out onto nothing but fields While outside mine, a book shop was closing down. It's closed now... And it starts to look unlikely As people leave around me Helen King wrote a letter to me Sent May 19th, the day of my birthday. From a desk in a library, in some far off country "I'm a roving artist now, it's alright, it's OK" Except there's no magic left in crystal balls I'm not sure there ever was at all. But listen, what will happen My favourite question, it's best left for the last line in a poem... And it starts to look unlikely As people leave around me ♪ Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you! Fashionistas, we don't need you!