Oh God it's another night And your head is feeling like a lump of lead. You should never have drunk those party-fours, You should have been home being good instead.
Ever been in a deja vu in the end it's the same Oh yeah you ran out of your silver thins And you're trying to be so high class Though you need a bath and your hair's looking like string And though you're nearly broke You end up paying for all the drinks And you tell them "Oh its nothing, There's a million where those come from." And then you whisper to your longest-suffering friend "Please lend me a few quid..."
Oh God it's another day And your stomach's feeling like a blown-up balloon. You should never have eaten that greasy food. The doctor told you that chili was bad for your blood.
And you're standing at the chemist in Boots Coughing up your guts like you're at deaths door And all this for a packet of Do-Do's And the assistant gives you a wink And you turn bright red It's at time like this that you wish you were dead And you take the whole packet And you feel like you've drunk a bottle of bleach And you tell yourself "Never, never again." Not until next week anyway.. And you were never one for holding drink And you stagger off to the toilet And you throw up like it was Christmas And you miss the bowl and you hit your shoes And there's no paper towels What else can go wrong with you? It's a choice between a cab fare home And a packet of cigarettes So you choose and the money sticks In the machine and the manager says "Tough shit - drink up and leave."
Oh god it's another disease And you just got rid of the last. You were beginning to feel Okay. And the friends you gave it to Were speaking to you again.
You find yourself having sex in the back of a car And the girl underneath doesn't care who you are And you're nearly there and she still doesn't care And her chewing gum is getting stuck in your hair And there's something wrong, something that you've forgot Oh shit you've forgotten the rubber And you don't want a kid well deny it was you Oh Christ if your dad find out Then he'll make you stay in And do your homework And cut your hair And wear your school uniform out in the street What a fate worse than death
Oh well, he can't hit you you can hit him back And play your records so loud All the ones that he especially hates Deep Purple in rock, Led Zeppelin too. Well even you hate those... Well, on second thought I think I'll leave home and go and live um... In America Because they earn more money there And you can get away with murder - yeah!
[Be-bop singing]
Oh, it's a mug's game
[Be-bop singing]
I Can't wait ‘til I'm twenty-one And then tell them all to sod off!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
