Running off over next doors garden Before the hour is done It's more a question of feeling Than it is a question of fun The confidence is the balaclava I'm sure you'll baffle 'em good Will the ending reek of salty cheeks And runny makeup alone
Or will blood run down the face Of a boy bewildered and scorned And you'll find yourself in a skirmish And you wish you'd never been born And you tie yourself to the tracks And there isn't no going back And it's wrong wrong wrong But we'll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble
Are you pulling her from a burning building Or throwing her to the sharks Can only hope that the ending is as pleasurable as the start The confidence is the balaclava, I'm sure you baffle 'em straight And it's wrong wrong wrong, she can hardly wait
-Second Part. Missing.- (That's right, he won't let her out his sight Now the shaggers perform And the daggers are drawn Who's the crooks in this crime?
That's right, he won't let her out his sight Now the shaggers perform And the daggers are drawn Who's the crooks in this... Crime!
That's right, he won't let her out his sight That's right, he won't let her out his sight That's right, he won't let her out his sight
You'll be able to post any day of the most For the sights of all time)