Original lyrics

EN

I can't keep pace with you Give you something wild I can change place with you Turn you into something Action comes to him who waits If he's not gone cold I can turn you into lead I can turn you into gold Read the small print The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful In the coffin of guitars, there her music lies Foliage and solos, growing from her eyes This is England The philosopher's stoned, but ungrateful Nazi in a wheelchair And a cardigan And a v-necked sweater He's a sad old Nazi man He's so friendly! The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful Bury me in cellophane Underneath a vault I can climb back out again But it's not my fault I can climb back out again What can you do? The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful The Philosophers' Stone but I'm grateful