1. |
U R
04:19
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--Lyrics--
You are the single vision
You are the only choice
You are the aspiration
Who wears the body and speaks the voice
You are the lazy rip-off
You are the latest scene
You are the hungry smile
All the answers stuck in your teeth
You are the foreign body
You are the get-out clause
You are the wonder pill that
Fights the symptom but not the cause
You are the weighted shoulder
You are the guilt machine
You are the master doubter
Always heard but never seen
You are the idle hands and
You are the modern greed
You are the zombie fashion
Cherrypicked from an honest dream
We’re all painting from their pallet
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2. |
CCTV
03:32
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--Lyrics--
We, never blink
So, we see everything
We, gather proof
We, tape every move
We’ve got you in our sights
We’ve got you
We, shake our heads
We’re the eyes that follow you round the room; we can see you better with a zoom
We, can trace your steps
We’re the sneaky feelin’ you’re not alone; we’re the ones behind you when you walk home
We, see you first
We’ll do work for any side; employed by one suspicious mind
We, assume the worst
We’re put here to make you feel safer; to helps us keep track; to see you don’t waiver
We’ve got you in our sights
Throughout the day and night
There’s only black and white
We’ve got you
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3. |
Sweet Goes Sour
03:51
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--Lyrics--
It's when I get the thought, that I get the itch
Take a ride and pick up a lonesome bitch
It always makes me hard when they know my face
I’ll take you back girl, but not to my place
I’m in your thoughts
I’m in your dreams
I’m who you’d like to be
I’m in your home
I’m on your screen
A noble effigy
Now get on the floor and give it some respect
And if you dare go squealing, I’m a' break your neck
Yeah, we’ll do the twist and shout, do the twist and shout
And when I’m ‘bout to blow, don’t forget to pout
I’ll show what happens when the sweet goes sour
I’ll do anything to abuse my power
I’m in your thoughts
I’m in your dreams
I’m who you’d like to be
I’m in your home
I’m on your screen
A noble effigy
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4. |
Happy Hour
03:51
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--Lyrics--
Backstage with the shakes
And a dodgy pair of fakes
She straps the blade inside her faithful cowboy boot
Tina calls her name
On the club PA
The music starts, and with a breath she take to the stage
Shake it, shake it, shake it
Indecent connoisseur
Walks right up to her
And with his greasy mitts he reaches out for a slice
“Look but never touch
You pay for such a rush
If you cough it up then I’ll put out, but not before”
Did you know that it’s happy hour?
So I’m gonna give you the special treatment
They follow after Ruth
Slip inside a booth
She draws the velvet curtain, and he loosens his belt
Pollock on the wall
Bollock on the floor
“They’ll never hear your screaming so I’d save your breath”
Did you know that it’s happy hour?
So I’m gonna give you the special treatment
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5. |
Sunrise///Sunset
06:36
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--Lyrics--
Sunrise
Sunset
Let go of this lonely feeling
Watch the headlights paint the ceiling
We’re all circles on a sphere
Spinning slow and spinning near
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6. |
Diet or Die
04:54
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--Lyrics--
The killer she idolised
Sporty and Scary Spice
Offers on Jesus Christ
Taxes on humble pie
Go roll into a ball and overturn the lottery
Nostalgia’s well and good, but isn’t what it used to be
Enough of the politics
Eurovision Humperdinck’s
I need a better fix
Frosties or Weetabix?
The jury’s out and finds that too much choice attacked the trend
Give us some time to heal, we broken Brits need doubt to mend
Come in store, get the right deal you
When she kisses like a Sister, play a different tune
And I feel foreign wherever I am
A professional, fugitive, Hungarian man
Half price, unlimited, guarantee
The poorest and the sickest, get all-you-can-eat
I like fibre optic chews and lots of fuss
To quiver like the fibber in a ratings loss
An evening with Hannibal
Discounted animal
Tummy tucked taxable
How dare she dress casual
Go roll into a ball and overturn the lottery
Nostalgia’s well and good, but isn’t what it used to be
Come in store, get the right deal for you
When she kisses like a Sister, play a different tune
And I feel foreign wherever I am
A professional, fugitive, Hungarian man
Half price, unlimited, guarantee
The poorest and the sickest, get all-you-can-eat
I like fibre optic chews and lots of fuss
To quiver like a fibber in a ratings loss
At eleven years old you were on the booze
Watched you tussle with a tassel from your grandma's bloom
They say I’m dead lucky and woman enough
A p-perfect pick-me-up when you’re not in the buff
Did you hear that? They just knocked and went
Another hit-and-run victim in a bankrupt bed
I’m not a sketch, no, just your typical shade
With the scrubs in the tub when they come to raid
Diet or die
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7. |
Jams 'N' Jellies
04:02
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--Lyrics--
These jams and jellies in my belly
Hug my very core
No hohum pate, frothy latte
Deserves my fickle awe
I love a gherkin while I’m workin’
On the second floor
But boiled cabbage comes with baggage
And yes, it’s such a bore
Don’t give me pasta in a plaster
Al dente oozing spore
I need an offal potato waffle
It's the only cure
An empty stirrup, calls for syrup
And Belgian chocolate horse
Pooch likes a Yorkie on a walkie
My bitchy Labrador
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