| He’s eager to lead, squeezed six in this taxi’s backseat
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| His animal’s grace, his heart breaks in spit-take
|
| And we run these streets, with tongues neatly tucked in our cheeks
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| We’re easy to please, we’re equally cheap meat
|
| Be careful who you dance with
|
| Somebody’s bound to get his head kicked in
|
| This wasn’t how we planned it
|
| And now don’t go asking where we’ve been
|
| We’re all reckless romantics
|
| Why fight the function we’ve been furnished with?
|
| There’s no good way to say this,
|
| Then just to take it on the chin
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| Left limp and wrist traits spit with his salivate kid
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| They know where you live
|
| They know who I’ve been with
|
| And kicked in the ribs
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| Some kid with his sibilant lips
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| He knows what he did
|
| And the lads left him lifeless
|
| Be careful who you dance with
|
| Somebody’s bound to get his head kicked in
|
| This wasn’t how we planned it
|
| So don’t go asking where we’ve been
|
| We’re all reckless romantics
|
| Why fight this function we’ve been furnished with?
|
| There’s no good way to say this,
|
| That’s just to take it on the chin. |