|
He's eager to lead, squeezed six in this taxi's backseat |
|
His animal's grace, his heart breaks in spit-take |
|
And we run these streets, with tongues neatly tucked in our cheeks |
|
We're easy to please, we're equally cheap meat |
|
Be careful who you dance with |
|
Somebody's bound to get his head kicked in |
|
This wasn't how we planned it |
|
And now don't go asking where we've been |
|
We're all reckless romantics |
|
Why fight the function we've been furnished with? |
|
There's no good way to say this, |
|
Then just to take it on the chin |
|
Left limp and wrist traits spit with his salivate kid |
|
They know where you live |
|
They know who I've been with |
|
And kicked in the ribs |
|
Some kid with his sibilant lips |
|
He knows what he did |
|
And the lads left him lifeless |
|
Be careful who you dance with |
|
Somebody's bound to get his head kicked in |
|
This wasn't how we planned it |
|
So don't go asking where we've been |
|
We're all reckless romantics |
|
Why fight this function we've been furnished with? |
|
There's no good way to say this, |
|
That's just to take it on the chin. |
