作曲 : Booth, Glennie, Gott
So I'm on my own

Far from my broken home

And it costs

Feels like ten below

Pack me off to school

Innocence and trust are all lost

Where did my childhood go?

Calling from the pay phone
Trying not to cry
Feeling I am dying
Telling you I'm fine

You tell me it's the making of me
That's a fucking lie

When's the holidays?

Holidays. Holiday.

I'm at the bottom of my bed

Headphones on my head

John Peel show

Feels like ten below

The sky's a dull gun metal

Where did the sun go

And it rains' and rains
Feels like ten below

Turning on the weaker ones when we were bored

I used to have feelings but all I feel's a hole is where the heart is
And the organ praise the lord

When's the holidays?

Holidays. Holidays.

He's at war
He's at war

With himself at the world
He's at war

He will strike first to anticipate

He's at war

Doesn't know how to relate

Feels like a cold war spy

If he's caught

Take the easy way out