You've necrotised your flesh
But you're wearing that dress.
Your fire demands another log.
You say what you mean,
But you're in no way serene.
And now you've gone the whole hog.
Well, it's a 21st century mass-penitentiary,
But, somehow, you're the extreme.
And with a presence like fire
You've melted my tyres -
How will I keep moving?
Well, at least I belong to this frozen mass,
When it's apparent your iron lung has crashed.
I'll leave you alone in your supremacy
Because it's obvious I'm not pedigree.
You'll fly out from the bulk of this meteor.
You'll be a shooting star;
A short life you're assured.
A girl I used to know.
I see a little silhouette of a man
All crumpled up in the palm of your hand.
I didn't know you were Turkish, dear -
The boys are kebab meat; your heel's the spear.
Well on the cards tonight is booze and fags;
Guffaws-a-plenty and childish gags.
You hit the club to throw some shapes.
You end up sprawled out like a starfish, babe.
In the morning you awaken with a headache
And it feels like two tectonic plates rubbing.
And so you ready yourself and go to work.
You're doing alright but you secretly shirk.
You can't wait 'til 10pm -
You're gonna sport your new gear at the clubs again.
You get ready and it's such a shame
'Cause your innocence is muddied with a stain.