Jam Baxter - 28 Staples lyrics

(Verse 1) Found one bullet that can penetrate angels Looking straight down at these 28 staples See my age like a semi-buff unhinged b**h in denial that could never stay faithful Got the wench in bed with my past with the rave crew bright eyes drenched in the dark They were spewing out chewed up news from a few years back, can you hear that? (Bruv, where the beer at?) Seventeen teenage kicks to the cranium foot-long wound full of tough titanium Snapped arm swinging in the Mediterranean, steps to developing the flesh of an alien The perils of a rock-star spread with his brains ripped out When the flames lick round the horizon The shock set the sea alight freeing every demon I see at night Skipping on a wave of excitement It's strange Rip every plug from the mains Excuse my excuses delusional thoughts mix well with the numbness A co*ktail best served dashed in the drain So retreat, tie up the noose with your teeth Leap from the black and blue world at your feet See 'em swing see 'em twitch, I was busy banging chicks getting f**ed with the freaks And just when you think you surpa**ed mortality, master of all in a cardboard galaxy The last black hole threw my pa**port back at me, a border control handcuffed to reality Bleep bleep, shackle him Old men in hospital gowns stammering It just takes one gallon of paraffin To burn a whole planet of inanimate mannequins And either, I'll strike the match for you and back away a diamond encrusted creature or We can all morph into plastic in shop front displays at the rave at the front left speaker A second rate jesus with scarlet fever turns old single malt to bacardi breezer on the corner And talks with a dark demeanor about that regression Eureka (Verse 2) Summertime and the living was simple, uncut Bolivian and hideous crystal Star prize for the millionth ring-pull, if its gone too far give me a signal Taking care of yourself is a mugs game freeze in excitement and melt in the mundane I'll be right here, trippin' out bobbing up and down Ripping out limbs and I wouldn't make one change Well, well, well I might make one sh** Stick around for the ice-age son, son Slip a bright tin on a soul-snapping par Yeah, sh**, but never pick at that volcanic scar Stepping in a parallel dimension, filled full of maggots and their paranoid henchmen An awkward exchanges by collard up cracks an amputee geeks at the grim-out convention Spill out the bedroom, tramp in a s*ut-suit swing for your outline, rape your reflection A pig-headed chef force feeds an infection, a stump-toothed child with a six-figure pension Cue for the cheque, the wrinkles on the rips never suited my flesh I was stretched on a next front page of the rocket fuel catalogue Smashed mirrors glued to my chest, high-v Still grimey, slumped in the stocks Funny how we all must've shrunk in the wash But could never stay clean, forever eighteen Take 28 reasons to renovate, scream