A mile and a half on a bus takes a long time
The odor of old prison food takes a long time to pa** you by
Day upon day of this wandering gets you down
Nobody gives you a chance or a dollar in this old town
Hovering silence from you is a giveaway
Squalor and smoke's not your style, I don't like this place, we better go
Then I compare notes with your older sister
I am a lazy git, she is as pure as the cold driven snow
What did you learn from your time in the solitary cell of your mind?
There was noise to distract you from anything good and the old prison food
Colour my life with the chaos of trouble 'cause anything's better than posh isolation
I missed the bus, you were laid on your back with the boy with the arab strap
With the boy from the arab strap
It's something to speak of the way you are feeling
To crowds there a**embled, do you ever feel you have gone too far?
Everyone suffers in silence a burden, the man who drives mini cabs down in Old Compton
The Asian man with his love hate affair with his racist clientele
A central location for you is a must
As you stagger about making free with your lewd and lascivious boasts
We all know you're soft 'cause we've all seen you dancing
We all know you're hard 'cause we all saw you drinking from noon until noon again
You're the boy with the filthy laugh
You're the boy with the arab strap
Strapped to the table with suits from the shelter shop
Comic celebrity takes a backseat as the cigarette catches
And sets off the smoke alarm
What do you make of the cool set in London?
You're constantly updating your hit parade of your ten biggest wa*ks
She's a waitress and she's got style