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No christmas for john quays |
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Come on get a bit of fucking guts into it |
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What what |
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Well the powders reach you |
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And the powders teach you |
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But when you find they can't reach you |
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There is no christmas for junky |
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He thinks he is |
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More interesting |
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Than the world |
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Ah but buying fags |
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Puts him in a whirl |
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I'll have a packet of three-five fives |
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Will you fucking put the monitors on for christ's sake? |
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I'll have a packet of three-five fives |
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I'll have 20 of those over there |
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I'll have 20 no.6 for a headache |
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And i've had enough right there, stop |
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(why is this) |
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Ah ah ah ah ah |
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He spits in the sky |
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It falls in his eye |
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And then he gets to sitting |
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Talking to his kitten |
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Talking about frankie lymon |
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Tell me why is it so? |
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Tell me why is it so? |
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Why did the sky break today? |
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Why did this happen today? |
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He goes out of his face with the idle race |
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He goes out of the room with this tune |
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Although the skins are thin |
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He knows its up to him |
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To go out or stay in |
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I'll stay in |
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I'll stay in |
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Have a break |
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You |
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Me |
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X-mas |
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X-mas |
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Well the powders reach you |
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And the powders teach you |
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But when you find they can't reach you |
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There is no christmas for junky |
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There is no girls |
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There is no curls |
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Just the traffic passing by |
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Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye |
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Open the room, there's a cloud of smoke |
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Will you fucking get it together instead of showing off? |
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Give me one |
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Give me b |
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Give me three |
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Give me d |
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No x-mas for john quays |
