| Tower blocks we lived in all come tumbling down
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| Moved out to another slum in another part of town
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| Playing football in the street and pissing in the lift
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| Who really ever thought it would come to this
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| East ham high street market on a Saturday
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| Stuffing things in coats, making out getaway
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| Back round Charlie’s house to see just what we’d got
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| In school Monday morning we’d just flog the lot
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| Blame the teachers, blame the school
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| Blame the parents, come on blame one and all
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| Blame the coppers, blame the drugs
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| Blame the system, but don’t blame us
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| Games of chicken in the kitchen with a carving knife
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| Eight stitches in my hand, I think I got off light
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| You’re girlfriend’s there in tears your mate’s made another pass
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| When’s he gonna learn he only has to ask
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| Blame the teachers, blame the school
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| Blame the parents, come on blame one and all
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| Blame the coppers, blame the drugs
|
| Blame the system, but don’t blame us
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| Schoolteachers sing you won’t come to anything
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| There’s no future in playing these dives
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| But looking back today we won’t have another way
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| Because we had the times off our lives
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| Out of school, out off work and out of cigarettes
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| We’ll all have some breakfast if he wins the bet
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| All the posing & posturing never made much sense
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| Little boys, little man, little innocence
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| Blame the teachers, blame the school
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| Blame the parents, come on blame one and all
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| Blame the coppers, blame the drugs
|
| Blame the system, but don’t blame us |