( J. Lennon, P. McCartney )
You never give me your money,
You only give me your funny paper,
And in the middle of negotiations, you break down.
I never give you my number,
I only give you my situation.
And in the middle of investigations, I break down.
Out of college, money spent,
See no future, pay no rent,
All the money's gone, nowhere to go.
Any jobber got the sack,
Monday morning turning back,
Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go.
But, oh, that magic feeling nowhere to go,
Oh, that magic feeling nowhere to go,
Nowhere to go.
One sweet dream, pick up the bags, and get in the limousine.
Soon, we'll be away from here,
Step on the gas and wipe that tear away.
