When I wrote the song, I had the sea near Bombay in mind. We stayed at a hotel by the sea, and the fishermen come up at five in the morning and they were all chanting. And we went on the beach and we got chased by a mad dog-big as a donkey. ... I think that songwriting changed when groups started spending more time in the studio. ... I've written so many songs about Englishmen, I have to go elsewhere. ... Our repertoire consisted of rhythm and blues, sort of country rhythm and blues, Sonny Terry things.

How was I conceived? Was it love, was I meant, or was I just an accident?

I don't wanna die in a nuclear war, I want to sail away to a distant shore, and make like an apeman.

The Christians to the lions sold out every night.

Arty farty, you'll never fool your Aunt, who knew you picked your nose and wet your pants.

She can't see me staring at her cause I'm always wearing shades.

Underneath that rude exterior, you've got a heart of gold.