Andrew scoops up half a pint of pistachios
And an empty for the shells
It's two AM in the Rose and Crown
Stumbling round the bar he grabs a jar
Full of beetroot pickled eggs
Says these are the best in town
The country's leading authority on Marxist anthropology
Finishes her brandy and slips quietly to the floor
And you get the sinking feeling that you've done this all before

Oh, Oxford, it's like a roll of bubble wrap
The singalong bit in an old familiar song
Oh, Oxford, it's a spring attached to your back
You can leave but you won't be gone for long

I go to get a coffee, try to clear
That noisy buzzing in my head
Find some shelter from the rain
I pass a bunch of students talking
Thundercats and Descartes in the street
It's that time of year again
They're only just discovering the joys of one another
And a city where they let you be as nerdy as you like
And every thirty seconds somebody steals a bike

Oh, Oxford, it's like a roll of bubble wrap
The singalong bit in an old familiar song
Oh, Oxford, it's a spring attached to your back
You can leave but you won't be gone for long

(Yeah, Oh Yeah)

And oh, don't you think that it's so nice
My little patch of paradise
Let's hope the bubble doesn't pop
And so, I'll never have to look around
My tiny piece of tiny town
Cause it's easier not to

I left and went to London for a while
Tried to make it there
I don't know why I bothered
Nowhere else has quite the combination
Of snobbishness and charm
That Oxford has to offer
I'd been away for ages but nothing ever changes
And when I made it back and took my seat beside the bar
Andrew smiled and asked me, "Did you get very far?"

Oh, Oxford, it's like a roll of bubble wrap
The singalong bit in an old familiar song
Oh, Oxford, it's a spring attached to your back
You can leave but you won't be gone for long

Cos everybody knows your name
And they're always glad you came
You want to be where you can see
Your troubles are all the same
You want to be where everybody knows your name