Of the people of Ertia, that's my home town,

When I was young I would often ask 'Why?'

'Things are like this, 'cos they used to be thus,'

Such was a typical Ertian reply.

Sometimes I felt like we were

In a sighing contest,

Often I felt that we were

Allergic to protest

Whole years drown in coffee, the weather, one's pains,

That's how I felt when I listened to my neighbour.

She'd a heart of gold, but a vision of custard,

You see that's how we coped with living in Ertia.

Sometimes I felt like we were

In a sighing contest,

One day I knew that it was

Time to leave...