| Song | The Light Is Always Green |
| Artist | The Housemartins |
| Album | The People Who Grinned Themselves To Death |
| 作曲 : Ian Peter Cullimore & Paul Heaton | |
| 作词 : Cullimore, Heaton | |
| We dig our models with the brains the size of models | |
| And cars that we can trust with out wives | |
| And we dig converstations with girls from every nation | |
| But not the ones that whisper or tell lies | |
| Wherever there's a will there's a motorway | |
| Wherever there is greed there is speed | |
| And they've always got to be there for yesterday | |
| Welcome to the new Scalextric's breed | |
| And the light they always show to them | |
| Is green, green, green | |
| And the heels they always show to me | |
| Are clean, clean, clean | |
| We're only flying past so we dig our sevice fast | |
| From the waiters to the women to the wine | |
| Never mind the match, I've an urgent date to catch | |
| Get me to the concert hall on time | |
| Pretending to be pilots in a war | |
| Pretending to weave between the flak | |
| No-one knows what the mission's for | |
| Blinkered horses on the track | |
| And the light they always show to them | |
| Is green, green, green | |
| And the heels they always show to me | |
| Are clean, clean, clean |
| zuò qǔ : Ian Peter Cullimore Paul Heaton | |
| zuò cí : Cullimore, Heaton | |
| We dig our models with the brains the size of models | |
| And cars that we can trust with out wives | |
| And we dig converstations with girls from every nation | |
| But not the ones that whisper or tell lies | |
| Wherever there' s a will there' s a motorway | |
| Wherever there is greed there is speed | |
| And they' ve always got to be there for yesterday | |
| Welcome to the new Scalextric' s breed | |
| And the light they always show to them | |
| Is green, green, green | |
| And the heels they always show to me | |
| Are clean, clean, clean | |
| We' re only flying past so we dig our sevice fast | |
| From the waiters to the women to the wine | |
| Never mind the match, I' ve an urgent date to catch | |
| Get me to the concert hall on time | |
| Pretending to be pilots in a war | |
| Pretending to weave between the flak | |
| Noone knows what the mission' s for | |
| Blinkered horses on the track | |
| And the light they always show to them | |
| Is green, green, green | |
| And the heels they always show to me | |
| Are clean, clean, clean |