iLL.

I'm feeling three less of four quarters Visions of bold sons and ill daughters I'm looking in the bag I've brought us But there's only Paracetamol and peanuts That's not enough to feed us A bottle of blossom a can of sardines and a sliced loaf can't free us We need codeine and Jesus I'm feeling one less of two goalposts Just a fucking stick in a field I need a pamphlet manifesto That comes as two In one kitchen roll Because I've got ten rough years to mop up I need something to believe in Not just visions of bold beasts and ill pups I'm coming around again I'm wide eyed and I mean it Shoulders back and posturing I can't go back now I've seen it I'm a septic tank half full kind of guy Got a twinkle in my eye That I've been told is just a stigmatism I've got a s-skip in my step like The undead half risen With a need to feed I bleed information And I'm losing a lot of blood Nice guy turned good I'll be enlightened by tomorrow Ready to concede and follow You can see the crucifixion on your phones and computers Visions of bold nostalgia and ill futures I'm coming around again I'm wide eyed and I mean it Shoulders back and posturing I can't go back now I've seen it I'm coming around again I'm wide eyed and I mean it Burn it down save the children I can't go back now I've seen it