Tekst:
Manic Street Preachers Other

Spend your days just working on shopping dependin' on how much your look is in spend your nightlife table hopping and trying to keep that bag a bones

I'm tired of my life but my head's alright I got the fever of a man that I know I can feel it comin' in the air tonight And I know I'm not alone Sweatin

(Beatles) Love, love, love Love, love, love Love, love, love There's nothing you can do that can't be done Nothing you can sing that can't be sung

If piss is yellow, then life must be grey How come they smile when we throw it away And if it is a colour than it must be sin And you want to apologise

There's a little part of me There's a little part of you Remember the feeling Of a frozen embryo There's a bigger part of me There's a bigger part

Is it a kind of dream Floating down on the river Following the river of death down stream Oh is it a dream? There's a fog on the horizon A strange

If you gave me a fresh carnation i would only crush it's tender petals with me you'll have no escape and at the same time there'll be nowhere to settle

weep in despair On and on into Trafalgar Square Here the rabble comes The kind you hoped were dead They've come to chop, to chop off your head These once peaceful streets

If your wondering why i've not been speaking my mind, sir it took so long since I could call this my home my shapes of confusion, beholds a frustration