With this gla**, I feel just like Nucky Thompson
There's no chance that the same mistakes are made
Oh my days aren't numbered, but the writing's on the wall
Do you ever feel like we only get our kicks
From watching others get their kicks
Meatballs and spaghetti just like Mel used to make
With a style like Gyp Rosetti
Whole heads of hair smashed out of place
And now we frown on wannabe Al Capones
But every Christmas we sing our lungs out to 'Bugsy Malone'
We could've been anything that we wanted to be
With this gla**, I feel just like Nucky Thompson
There's no chance that the same mistakes are made
Oh my days aren't numbered
But the writing's on the wall and it says
I'm a 21st century gangster watching boxsets on my sofa
Drinking whisky and lemonade
Are you comfortable in furnished chaos?
Or do you ever wonder where it all went wrong?
It's a consolation that I am not the only one
And I am to a gangster
What two fingers and a thumb is to a gun
With this gla**, I feel just like Nucky Thompson
There's no chance that the same mistakes are made
Oh my days aren't numbered
But the writing's on the wall and it says
I'm a 21st century gangster watching boxsets on my sofa
Drinking whisky and lemonade