| Sit down!
|
| Just shut up! |
| I’ll talk
|
| No, you just sit down
|
| I’ll talk!
|
| Can I come back next time dressed in shite
|
| And take my place on the land scapes eyes
|
| It’s the rest who push the policy dream
|
| Of fixing life with policy cream
|
| Voice your thoughts near big black gates
|
| On dead old roads near bricks and grey
|
| To the sound of nothing as it breaks the spell
|
| There’s no witchcraft here, it’s just fucking hell
|
| We’re in the makings of another hole
|
| Where we all get the chance to climb on again
|
| It’s just the makings of another hole
|
| That will turn on us all eventually
|
| Yeah, I got a roadworks pose even though I’m free
|
| I mean I can’t really moan because you’ll have a go at me
|
| So stupid ain’t we? |
| We’re liked pumped up meat
|
| Wet and fried and thick to the slice
|
| I got no flies on me, I’m like shit that’s white
|
| The kind that you tell your kids to pick up if they like
|
| I got two brown bins, should I only have one?
|
| But what the council don’t know won’t hurt them
|
| We’re in the makings of another hole
|
| Where we all get the chance to climb on again
|
| It’s just the makings of another hole
|
| That will turn on us all eventually
|
| We’re in the makings of another hole
|
| Where we all get the chance to climb on again
|
| It’s just the makings of another hole
|
| That will turn on us all eventually
|
| It’s gonna turn on us all
|
| And bring us round, round, round
|
| Take us back to the top
|
| And drag us down, down, down
|
| Gonna turn on us all
|
| And bring us round, round, round
|
| Take us back to the top
|
| And drag us down, down, down
|
| It’s gonna turn on us all
|
| And bring us round, round, round
|
| Take us back to the top
|
| And drag us down, down, down
|
| Gonna turn on us all
|
| And bring us round, round, round
|
| Take us back to the top
|
| And drag us down, down, down |