I want you to be the way
i want you to be
and when you’re not
it hurts me
like shredded tape
something sticky
for security
wrapped tight around a metal box
to imitate security
there’s a blue sky over me
but the fear is on me
in a place where ball games are strictly forbidden
luxury 2-bedroomed apartments
overlook the traffic lights
next to the rails
it’s a hot day
it’s a, it’s a hot day
a lazy day for some
but i’m bringing from the inside
all these things
i see a wall
i know it’s gonna fall down
maybe hurt somebody
after it’s been
tagged and fly posted
it’s a rush job
it looks good for long enough
knock em out and sell em
move on
it’s a fast buck
and the race is on
to get in get out
get what you want
get out
it’s the short-term
the long-term can look after itself
unless you happen to be living here
i’ve got to stop
(chorus)
people are squinting to block out the sun
complaining or soaking it up
praying for rain the next minute
for a scorched earth
what’s it worth
enough is never
enough
let’s have a little moan
put the world to right
sit back and watch it all slide by
it’s a view from a train
pay somebody else to drive
see the suits
i see the suits sunning themselves on the steps
of the supermarket
and i think of you and i’m alone like this
burning from the inside
i found a new door
i didn’t know where it went
i went through
i came out in this shopping mall where
boys wear england shirts
and west ham shirts and arsenal shirts
and the boys from dagenham wear jackets
called harlem
grinning at the door at the
Ann Summers sex shop
it’s st. georges day
and all the old people smile
the young people look hungry
looking for a new door
i’m in the sun
at the back of the shops
where the purple weed thins are pushed against the doors that say
fire exit
the smell of grease
there’s a broken glass thing under my feet
the boys stop for a smoke in the sun
and watch girls cross from the job centre
to the station
a drunk stands in the door of a pub
a bunch of pea sticks in one hand
a cheery carrier bag
hanging in the other
hanging in the other
girls in england shirts read the papers
and giggle at the table in the cafe
offering homemade dinners
it’s good food
but your clothes come out smelling of grease
i got my back to the rail at the end of the ally
by the bypass you might have seen me
scratching all these things
inking it out
deliver us from temptation
and doubt
there’s an abandoned trolley
call safe at radio 1
on and on and on
and another england shirt out in the sun
spring falls in pink
on the blacktop and cracks
black and yellow tape covers the scene, of a break in
and every time i think of you i get my peace back
*chorus*