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Fake tales of San Francisco Echo through the room More point to a wedding disco Without a bride or groom There's a super cool band yeah With their trilbys and their glasses of white wine And all the weekend rock stars are in the toilets Practicing their lines I don't want to hear you (Kick me out, kick me out) I don't want to hear you no (Kick me out, kick me out) I don't want to hear you (Kick me out, kick me out) I don't want to hear you I don't want to hear you Fake tales of San Francisco Echo through the air And there's a few bored faces at the back All wishing they weren't there And as the microphone squeaks A young girl's telephone beeps Yeah she's dashing for the exit Oh she's running to the streets outside "Oh you've saved me," she screams down the line "The band were fucking wank And I'm not having a nice time” I don't want to hear you (Kick me out, kick me out) I don't want to hear you no (Kick me out, kick me out) Yeah but his bird thinks it's amazing, though So all that's left Is the proof that love's not only blind but deaf He talks of San Francisco, he's from Hunter's Bar I don't quite know the distance But I'm sure that's far Yeah I'm sure it's pretty far And yeah I'd love to tell you all my problem You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham So get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook