Tekst:
Geordie

I see your dirty face Hide behind your collar What is done in vain Truth is hard to swallow So you pray to God To justify the way you live a lie, live

Geordie girl, She gave him earache and penal warts. Penal warts... Tardy Lass Geordie girl, She talked and talked he couldn't understand a thing. Tardy Lass Geordie

Oh Lord, what's wrong with me I can't seem to be what I wanna be And it's not for the sake of tryin' I tried so hard, God know, and felt like dyin' And

Natural Born Loser lyrics How come everything that I do Never seems to go right Every turn I take to the left Seems I should have gone right Guess I'm

do that Don't do that, don't do that, don't do that Well, don't do that Hey - hey - hey - hey Hey - hey - hey ? hey Grab your partner by the hand C'mon down to Geordie

here, sitting in my room, with The Replacements and Husker Du, like a rebel without a clue and the Beatles and the Stones get to hang out with Ramones

life has teeth, and bites the feeding open hand you wanna be in a band? I got to feeling, I got too much, too soon, too fucked up I don't know I got to

"Gee mister you got the best answering machine message I ever heard" drags me round all day just like a ball on a chain or a tooth pain when I confess

in the trials of my youth, on my way to being man there was caustic words of ill advice I'd never understand but their hometown dreams were shattered