| You feel the knife stuck in your back
|
| You feel it twist and you hear it crack
|
| Can’t make a sound for the sudden pain
|
| You wish your blood were Novocaine
|
| You see the smoke and you feel the flak
|
| You’re burning up and you’re turning black
|
| They say you fell and you hit your head
|
| Your other bun is Whitenbread
|
| Vicious rumours, paranoic fears
|
| Sonic boomers ringing in your ears
|
| All of this is getting normal now
|
| You’ll never go back to your farming plough
|
| Vicious rumours
|
| You’re right at home back at William’s flat
|
| You heard a sound you turned and shot your cat
|
| Your hands are shaking, everybody sees
|
| And there’s a rhythm drumming in your knees
|
| You return into a foreign night
|
| Inside you know something is just not right
|
| Sometimes you duck when you see your pet
|
| Canary turned into a Sabre jet
|
| Shocked consumer — you’re just an average guy
|
| Swelling tumor pushing on your eye
|
| And now you know why all the headaches come
|
| And why you’re getting progressively numb
|
| Vicious rumours
|
| I’ve been denied, debriefed, detuned
|
| Sometimes I howl right at the moon
|
| My family treats me gradually
|
| They know my volatility
|
| Vicious rumours, paranoic fears
|
| Sonic boomers ringing in your ears
|
| And now I know why all the headaches come
|
| And why you’re getting progressively numb
|
| Vicious rumours
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| (Vicious rumours)
|
| Who do you think we are
|
| Who do you think we are
|
| Who do you think we are
|
| Who do you think we are
|
| Who do you think we are
|
| We don’t care
|
| We don’t care |