| The only limits we set
|
| What can we get away with?
|
| In that at least we’re the same
|
| The only way we find of hiding the hurt we feel
|
| Is more unnecessary pain
|
| Each time you
|
| Draw in like a breath
|
| It comes out like a knife
|
| You feel like offering yourself out
|
| Tonight
|
| On what a fight
|
| The little you can expect to get
|
| To get from anyone else
|
| Makes you look after number one
|
| The only helping hand
|
| You’ll ever be offered
|
| Is the one at the end of your own arm
|
| Draw in like a breath
|
| It goes tight like a wire
|
| You’re trying to shout
|
| But your lungs are on fire
|
| Draw in like a breath
|
| It comes out like a knife
|
| You feel like offering yourself
|
| Shoplifting my little brother
|
| Shoplifting my little sister
|
| Said all you got to do is
|
| Just a forward through the door
|
| But when they come fe check you out
|
| You no come back for more
|
| Shoplifting my little brederen
|
| Shoplifting my little sister
|
| Tell me which one would you prefer
|
| One hundred pound fine
|
| Or three months in prison
|
| Me old cock sparra?
|
| Shoplifting shoplifting
|
| Shoplifting, but a shoplifting |