Текст песни Busy Going Nowhere - Dave Taylor

I do it in the spare bedroom
When no one is around
But if you crept up quietly
You might hear a grunting sound

All day long I pound away
With all me might and main
Determined look upon my face
The pleasure and the pain

All manner of strange sounds I make
"Oh My God", you'll hear me shriek
As I finally reach a climax
Then collapse into a heap

I'll keep puffing and keep panting
Morning, noon or night
But I'm busy going nowhere
On me exercise bike

My doctor told me that I must
Shed more than a few pounds
And lower my cholesterol
Or I'll be underground

When I was young and in my prime
I leaner was and fitter
But now I am the Michelin man
Through drinking pints of bitter

I feel just like that Greek bloke
With his bloody rock
But however fast I pedal
I'm still rooted to the spot

I'll keep puffing and keep panting
Morning, noon or night
But I'm busy going nowhere
On me exercise bike

I'll shut me eyes and make believe
On the open road I speed
With the wind blowing through my hair
That once was on my swede

The women watch as I sail past
In my tight lycra shorts
Admiring of my shapely rear
And having wicked thoughts

Let's give it total welly
Let's make that arsehole pout
I'll blow out all those cobwebs
Till I've worn myself right out

I'll keep puffing and keep panting
Morning, noon or night
But I'm busy going nowhere
On me exercise bike

Then I open up my eyes and see
Those four magnolia walls
Just like a hamster in a wheel
A martyr to the cause

I'll keep puffing and keep panting
Morning, noon or night
But I'm busy going nowhere
On me exercise bike