| I remember the sickness was forever
|
| I remember snuff videos
|
| Cold Septembers
|
| The distances we covered
|
| The fist fights on the beach
|
| The Bizzies round us up
|
| Do it all again next week
|
| Embryonic love
|
| The first time that it scarred
|
| Embarrass yourself for someone
|
| Crying like a child
|
| And the boy who kicked Tom’s head in
|
| Still bugs me now
|
| That’s the thing it lingers
|
| And claws you when you’re down
|
| I was far too scared to hit him
|
| But I would hit him in a heartbeat now
|
| That’s the thing with anger
|
| It begs to stick around
|
| So it can fleece you of your beauty
|
| And leave you spent with nowt to offer
|
| It makes you hurt the ones who love you
|
| You hurt them like they’re nothing
|
| See I spent my teens enraged
|
| Spiralling in silence
|
| And I armed myself with a grin
|
| Cause I was always a fuckin' joker
|
| Buried in their humour
|
| Amongst the white noise and boys' boys
|
| Locker room talkin' lads' lads
|
| Drenched in cheap drink and snide fags
|
| A mirrored picture of my old man
|
| Oh God the kid’s a dab hand
|
| Canny chanter, but he looks sad
|
| God, the kid looks so sad
|
| She said the debt, the debt, the debt
|
| So I thought about shifting gear
|
| And how she wept and wept and wept
|
| The luck came down round here
|
| I see my mother
|
| The DWP see a number
|
| She cries on the floor encumbered
|
| I’m seventeen going under
|
| I’m seventeen going under |