We went to school wrapped up in cotton wool, dreaming 'bout the day I'd leave,
I couldn't wait to get out, I couldn't wait to lay it out, all of those bad memories.
Maybe I should mention I could never pay attention to all those educated fools.
Got to do it my way, forgettin' what they all say, makin' up my own kind of rules.
Yeah...
Working behind the desk at the local NEB, worrying about my shirt and tie,
Yeah, you had to be clean, and you had to make its scene,
So's the public wouldn't blink an eye.
In walks the boss, still carrying his cross, saying “You'd better get it right or else.”
Yeah, I had enough of it — me, I'd rather rough it, I'm just gonna please myself.
Yeah...
You've been walking on a fine line, don't mess around with your mind,
You know they played it mean and cruel,
You got to do it your way, forgettin' what they all say, makin' up your own kind of rules.
Got to do it your way, forgettin' what they all say, makin' up your own kind of rules,
Makin' up your own kind of rules.
Yeah...
Drums and Percussion: Andy Steele
Bass: Dave Wintour
Sax: Chris Mercer
Harp: Chris Neill
Guitar: Bernie Holland, Hugh Burns
Piano
