Dance, Idiot, Dance-Chumbawamba

[00:05.50]Here comes Nicholas, fiddle in hand, [00:11.71]into a world that he can't understand. [00:17.48]You can't keep pace with the master race, [00:20.61]his feet they're going all over the place [00:23.46]he can't see his moves cos there's egg on his face. [00:27.78]Dance, idiot, dance! [00:31.01] [00:36.64]His body's as stiff as a cold lasagne, [00:42.27]'cos all he knows is 'Rule Brittannia'. [00:48.30]His rhythm's so bad that we're supposin' [00:51.37]maybe it's cos his legs are frozen? [00:54.31]Shouldn't be wearing lederhosen! [00:58.72]Dance, idiot, dance! [01:01.50] [01:38.36]Messianical look in his eye, [01:43.97]arms akimbo, slapping his thigh. [01:49.86]He wrinkles his snout at a likely wench [01:52.82]（we've censored her answer and pardoned her French） [01:55.82]it's hard for your average Ubermensch. [02:00.04]Dance, idiot, dance! [02:03.24] [02:09.06]Poor old Nicholas got up today, [02:14.58]to Cecil Sharpe House he made his way. [02:20.48]Wore his uniform just to impress and said, [02:24.23]"this must be the place, I guess, for joining the EFD-SS?" [02:30.84]Dance, idiot, dance! [02:34.23]