Take a stroll down any high street
Anywhere in the U.K.
And I betcha the architecture
Is as attractive as a lump of concrete
That's been painted grey

It probably took about a week to be erected
And even less time to be planned
But it appears it's taken years
For the art to be perfected
Of building something so exquisitely bland

As if it was made with the aid
Of a lego plan, by a man
With no sense of imagination
And a totalitarian inclination

It all looks the same, it all looks the same
The ubiqutious homogeneity of every faceless highstreet chain
The pattern of standardisation is permanently engrained upon my brain

To prove a point I befriended
A local town planning adviser
He was speaking at a meeting
So I spiked his drink when it ended
With some whale tranquilliser

Afterwards he started getting drunk
At an insipid brand-name bar
I hung about until he passed out
Then I locked him up in a big trunk
Blindfolded in the boot of my car

And I drove for days along motorways
And I took him for a sort of mystery tour
Then dumped him at a random location
In a bush by the car park of a service station!

I watched from afar chuckling in my car
As he came round
He was probably thinking he'd had a heavy night's drinking
As he got off the ground
Cos he went on his way as if it were a normal day
Once he’d had a look around
So I left him there totally unaware
He was in a different town

It's a good job he didn't have any friends or a wife
Because he's still there now carrying on with his life!

It all looks the same, it all looks the same

I went to Dulwich, which was dull - but not as bad as Hull, which is dull yearly. Yet it's not nearly as boring as Goring. I went to Brent and Stoke-on-Trent, which was a joke, as was Basingstoke. The worst was Midhurst - only a notch less stale than Rochdale. The train I caught to Stockport stopped in Runcorn. I thought "at least it's not Eastbourne", which made me more forlorn than when I saw Torquay, which bored me stiff, as did Cardiff. I wasn't impressed by Preston, and as for Weston Super Mare - don’t even go there! And Bognor Regis was just tedious. But the dreariest region of Britain could well be High Wycombe. Then again, when I was in Gloucester I lost my will to live. I’d never live in Crewe, nor Luton too. It was a mistake to go to Margate, and there's nothing great about Great Yarmouth. Manchester depressed me, so I went to Grimsby for a while, but it was grim - like Carlisle. They say that Rome wasn't built in a day, but it seems that Milton Keynes might have been.