Turn left at the lights about 50 yards down. There's a pub in the corner and I'll meet you inside. About quarter to eight and we'll go into town. And find out what everybody's been saying about us. Smalltown walls have eyes and ears. Stories fly thick and fast round here. Truth and lies are all the same. Whatever you do don't rock the boat. You've got to play the game play the game. Chorus:. Is it a crime to want something else?. Is it a crime to believe in something different?. Is it a crime to want to make things happen?. To spit in the faces of the cynical fools. The incrowd know that the shell is thin. So they all protect the cage they're in. Get drunk and stoned and wrecked again. No tears of rage no cries of pain. Nothing ventured nothing gained. In smalltown England. Because the world outside the pint in hand. Is all so hard to understand. And if visions of the world come clear. They're not allowed to interfere. Chorus:. Is it a crime to want something else? . .. The smell of hot food from the takeaway curry. Diesel fumes from a passing lorry. Waiting in the queue in the pouring rain. For the chip shop up on Bowling Lane. Well last week we all got really smashed. We couldn't stand up it was a real laugh. And this week's going to be just the same. And the next and the next again and again. They say you've got to have fun while you're young.