Frankly, Mr Shankly, I’m a sickening wreck.
I’ve got the 21st century breathing down my neck.
I must move fast, you understand me.
I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr Shankly.
Fame, fame, fatal fame,
It can play hideous tricks on the brain.
But still I rather be famous.
Than righteous or holy, any day, any day, any day.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly
The Smiths (1986), The Queen is Dead
