Pacemaker

Juveniles, hide your porno mags

The girl's got problems at her yard so she's packing up her bags full of rags

Her man got down from Po Na Na

While the Madre still in the kitchen smokes a 20-deck fags

Body bags come back on planes from wartorn Iraq

It's the stark naked truth, a dark aftermath

Baby T, the juice and the dog just barks

Remember man the bully always had the last laugh

It was a blast last night down the old 12 Bar

White socks, black shoes with the ballads in the car

With a lump in the throat she won't understand

Twos on a cigarette it's all blah blah

Bloody obli obla dah glug down liquor

Life goes on for all the daytrippers

Starts off small but it's gonna get bigger

By the end of this letter it may all be better

Well she's always asking with the who, where and how

The girls say ooh la la

Well if I had another chance I'd do it differently now

And the girls say ooh la la la la la la la

From Trafalger Square where the crackpipe reeking

To in your dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking

You fell in love when you first started chatting

But got so bored cause she never stopped speaking

Consider this son on the bad behaviour

He's keeping all the freebies, delivering the papers

You hate us, shake down fakers

Oh, you'll never get nowhere

Cause I'm the pacemaker

(Keepup, runny runny run run)

Pretty please me, oh, she's easy on the eye

Some say that today only the good young die

Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's been right good day

I wanna ask questions but I don't mean to pry

How did you get to where you going to before you came slowly moseying through this bar?

You started your race, Jonny Cockeral wants his money

Give up the man he's a fruit and nut bar

(I'm serious, he's a real nutter)

Oh, I gotta see the GP, coughing up lungs

Doc says stop or you're going die young

I haven't even started to do what I done

You young don't listen, you just carry on

Well, we heard it before when your song got sung

Get a grip son

Why?

Cause you're always drunken

We're not captains just skivvy sunken

Humdrum drum, drum, live fast die young

Mr Skin stumbling, the road rocky

Trespassers on the private property

Remember back then it was the ranter banter

Young sons watched their young Pas get cancer

Vagabond Sandy crying out for he missed her

Missed her so much that he went drank the brewery

So sing-a-long Sam this is a song about you

We all went out and we got pissed-ola

I don't wanna fight he's a right big cunt

But the fellas say go on my son, my son

It's all a bit of fun 'til someone gets done

But the fellas say go on my son, my son

Well, I'm more likely to pick up and run

But the fellas say go on my son, my son

Ah fuck it, well, he's a right big cunt

But I'll knock him one, fuck that

Run, run