23 Apr It’s About Time You Fucked Up Your Ideas
It’s About Time You Fucked Up Your Ideas
You must be missing the drink & drugs?
When was the last time you had a fight?
I’m sick of looking at your bruise-less body.
The Police haven’t been here in months, I’m ashamed!
Even the Corner Street Girls have stopped smiling at you.
Call yourself a Man? Jesus Christ, I’m so BORED!
I miss your hung-over, bloodshot beautiful eyes.
You limping up the street with a spring in your step.
Your scuffed and scabby knuckles down there
Flicking my bean and driving me fucking crazy.
I heard ‘Billy No Mates’ was calling you a Wanker
In ‘The Pub With No Name’ late last night
And he’s drinking in ‘Wetherspoon’s’ this afternoon.
Ketamine Kate’s selling amphetamine again
Her number’s on the kitchen table with a £100.
Go and sort yourself out mun, make me proud
And don’t you dare come back home until you have
Blackened eyes and our once glorious names again!”