Running off over next doors garden
Before the hour is done
It's more a question of feeling
Than it is a question of fun
The confidence is the balaclava
I'm sure you'll baffle em good
With the ending wreek of salty cheeks
And runny makeup alone
Oh will blood run down the face
Of a boy bewildered and scorned
And you'll find yourself in a skirmish
And you wish you'd never been born
And you tie yourself to the tracks
And there isn't no going back
And its wrong wrong wrong
But well do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble
Are you pulling her from a burning building
Or throwing her to the sharks
Can only hope the ending is a pleasurable as the start
The confidence is the balaclava, I'm sure you baffle em straight
And its wrong wrong wrong, she can hardly wait
Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
Now the shaggers perform
And the daggers are drawn
Who's the crooks in this crime?
Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
How the shaggers perform
And the daggers are drawn
Who's the crooks is this....
Crime!
Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
You'll be able to post any day of the most
For the sights of all time
You knew that he'd be trouble right before the very first kiss
Quiet and unassuming but you knew that they were the naughtiest
She pleaded with you to take it off
But you resisted and fought
Sorry sweetheart I'd much rather, keep on the balaclava.
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