Cut, cut, cutlasses
Had some bad luck, took some risks, took some ill-advised taxi trips
And it's not heaven you found
It's just a better dressed predator
I've been crashing at yr house,
got some floor to ceiling doubts and
now I'm stuck inside the darkest corners
I will meet you out by the crossroads where the fashion pubs breed
I want it, I got it, a promise, in pieces!
You said yourself,
you'd talk to anyone, this could be the last you see of him
Slow, slow, slower
Let the courtyard smokers cough stories to each other outside
And on the tip of your tongue
Slug salt and spit it out
I've been crashing at yr house,
got some floor to ceiling doubts and
now I'm stuck inside the darkest corners
I will meet you out by the crossroads where the fashion pubs breed
I want it, I got it, a promise, in pieces!
You said yourself,
you'd talk to anyone, this could be the last you see of him
At the crossroads where the fashion pubs breed
I want it, I got it, a promise, in pieces!
You said yourself,
you'd talk to anyone, this could be the last you see of him
Look around and everyone's industry
Keep to the left and fat thighs are back again