I'm Still Trying - Momus

Are thunderstorms still crashing down the British Isles?

Do pantomime dames still get them rolling in the aisles?

And do they know in Scotland that I’m still alive

Deep in the jungle of internal exile?

But I want to come back home before I die

Tell the guys, tell the guys I’m still trying

I see the place from time to time on some hotel TV

Whiskey and the festival, the old rivalry

Edinburgh and Glasgow, the cold war lingers on

New York and Los Angeles, the rising and the setting of the sun

But I still feel this rage

Even on this plane

There’s still this rage

Flying at the speed of sound

Further and further away

The populist elitism, God, it all floods back

The suspicion of the grand idea, the hyping of the fact

The stubborn lack of passion, they were all so bad in bed

The laddish sense of humour behind which they all hid

But I want to come back home before I die

Tell the guys, tell the guys I’m still trying

I like it when I see how they can still smash up a street

Riots stir the patriotic embers deep in me

Captain McKechnie from the island of Tiree

If you sailed back now great grandfather

There’s something you’d still recognise in me

There’s still this rage

But I still feel this rage

Even on this plane

There’s still this rage

Flying at the speed of sound

Further and further away

Are thunderstorms still crashing down the British Isles?

Do pantomime dames still get them rolling in the aisles?

And do they know in Scotland that I’m still alive

Deep in the jungle of internal exile?

But I want to come back home before I die

Tell the guys, tell the guys I’m still trying