The National racing like a pro

You're pink, you're young, you're middle class
They say it doesn't matter
Fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands
You're shooting up the ladder
Your mind is racing like a pro now
Oh my god, it doesn't mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god, it was a million years ago
Sometimes you get up and bake a cake or something
Sometimes you stay in bed
Sometimes you go la di da di da di da da
Till your eyes roll back into your head
Your mind is racing like a pro now
Oh my god, it doesn't mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god, it was a million years ago
You're dumbstruck baby
You're dumbstruck baby, now you know
You're dumbstruck baby
You're dumbstruck baby, now you know
Your mind is racing like a pro now
Oh my god, it doesn't mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god, it was a million years ago
You're dumbstruck baby.
You're dumbstruck baby, now you know.
You're dumbstruck baby.
You're dumbstruck baby, now you know.
You're dumbstruck baby.