(On this glorious occasion
Of the splendid defeat)
I wanna start from before the beginning
Loot wine: "Be mine
And then let's stay out for the night"
Ride via parkside, semi-perilous lives
Jeer the lights in the windows of all safe and
stable homes
(But wondering then, well, what
could peace of mind be like?)
Anyway, do you want to hear our story or not?
As the Fulham Road lights stretch and invite into the night
From a Stevenage overspill we'd kill to live around
SW6 with someone like you
Keep thieves' hours with someone like you
...As long as it slides
You stalk the house
In a low-cut blouse:
"Oh Christ, another stifled Friday night!"
And the Fulham Road lights stretch and invite into the night
Well, I was fifteen
What could I know?
When the gulf between all the things I need
And the things I receive
Is an ancient ocean wide
Wild, lost, uncrossed
Still I maintain there's nothing wrong with you
You do all that you do because it's all you can do
Well, I was fifteen
Where could I go?
With a soul full of loathing for stinging
bureaucracy
Making it anything other than easy
For working girls like me
With my hands on my head
I flop on your bed
With a head full of dread
For all I've ever said
Maladjusted
Maladjusted
Maladjusted
Maladjusted
Never to be trusted
Oh, never to be trusted
compositores: STEVEN MORRISSEY, MARTIN JAMES BOORER
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