I could be the driver an articulated lorry
  I could be a poet I wouldn't need to worry
  I could be a teacher in a classroom full of scholars
  I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs
  What a waste
  What a waste
  What a waste
  What a waste
  
  CHORUS:
  Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band,
  First-night nerves every one-night stand.
  I should be glad to be so inclined.
  What a waste! What a waste!
  But I don't mind.
  
  I could be a lawyer with strategems and ruses
  I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises
  I could be a writer with a growing reputation
  I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway Station
  What a waste (x4)
  
  Repeat CHORUS
  
  I could be the catalyst that sparks the revolution
  I could be an inmate in a long-term institution
  I could dream to wide extremes, I could do or die
  I could yawn and be withdrawn and watch the world go by
  What a waste (x4)
  
  Repeat CHORUS