| In a commissioned town, on Lump Street
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| The brick-hard boy repeats a scripted lie
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| Eyes to the ground on Lump Street
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| There’s a broken jaw behind the dog-tooth smile
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| The grunt and moan behind the night here
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| Though breath is warm, sex is cold
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| Nothing is grown on Lump Street
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| Each piece is fired inside a broken mould
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| Do you want more unshapely love?
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| What you waiting for? |
| Cut out that lump
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| She tore his tongue out at the end of Lump Street
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| She liked to see the blood beneath his skin
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| He wore her muscles, kissed the bruising
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| Away, away
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| Do you want more unshapely love?
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| What you waiting for? |
| Cut out that lump
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| He’s a full-grown man, no shoulder to cry on
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| Raised by wolves and they taught him to bite down hard
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| No locks on the doors, no corner to hide in
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| Scars like armour, dead boy’s eyes
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| She’s a Lump Street girl, with a blade in her brow
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| Raised by the state but they tore it all down
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| They fucked and they fought but it still felt right
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| Run away from these orange Lump Street lights
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| Get together now, find hope
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| There is a life beyond the one you already know
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| Get together now, build a home
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| There is life beyond the one you already know |