An industrial train station In the cold morning illumination Sets the scene We ascend to the Capitol But the exit polls have proved us wrong Or so it would seem One last punchline Speeding through the green mile In the crisp light Tossing hand grenades On the same side of the barricade Is friendly fire ♪ Underneath the chestnut tree Where I sold you and you sold me The gin's run dry The wind has grown cold Carrying tales of long-lost splendours of old In your kerosene eyes I handed in my resignation In the split second of hesitation Before touchdown Geocentric hedonism And an aftertaste of narcissism In my dry mouth ♪ Bet on Bet on Bet on me Just like you bet on the races Bet on Bet on Bet on me Just like you bet on the races Bet on Bet on Bet on me Just like you bet on the races