There's a big group of lads at the bar
They've got Ralph Lauren shirts on and gel in their hair
The fruit machine's rigged so it never gives out
A pint of John Smith's is less than a pound
And it's beer and a burger for dinner again
But all of the pubs on the high street are the same
With laminated menus and terrible music
Really bright lights and some puke in the toilets
Another nameless, faceless town
Another Friday night
Let's hope some of these lads get laid before they start getting into fights
It's all good though, it's all gravy
This is middle England baby
And the roundabouts circle the towns
The carpet got swept and the factory closed down
And no-one remembers the town they once knew
And all arrows point to the next Wetherspoons
Where we drink away our sorrows
With smiles on our faces
I know this 'cause I've been there, I'm a fan of getting wasted
Makes me feel good, drives me crazy
This is middle England baby
Makes me feel good, drives me crazy
This is middle England baby