Punches, Kicks, Trenches & Swords

Smashed glass, hooded masks, picking your best mate last, your mother got it wrong.
Upstanding citizen, you were her favourite son but your life's ruled by a song.
You don't need us to spoon feed answers into your very capable mouth.
We refuse to take responsibility for inventing the lout.
Take me back, take me back, I don't want to stay.
You know about this, you know about this and what can you say?
It never used to be this way.
Looking back from the past to the present day.
Punches, kicks Trenches and Swords x 4

Lets meet Miss dirty feet, who pays for your kids to eat while you spend all day on the phone?
Sack that I take it back, I know the answer to that question because your types well known.
16 years who appears? Little Miss dirty feet all having kids of their own.
Trisha's on, their favourite mum's handed the blueprints out on how to create a free home.
x 2



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Clements, Richard Emerson, David Page, Christopher Connoll
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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