Sleaford Mods - TCR lyrics

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Sleaford Mods - TCR lyrics

[Verse 1] Total Control Racing I was supposed to be going out, that took ages Kids are hardcore, aren't they? They don't mess about Madhouse, chit-chat, duties, more nappies Then I manage to get out The sharp night whistled around my coat, as I motioned up to the main road The wails of your offspring behind ya, cracking window It's hard, innit, when you plan to do something But at that moment you realize it's not quite right Not really something you should be doing tonight Well before me a few hellos, expectant mums with blokes that I know The bus whirred, three-fifty all-day ticket But I knew deep down I wasn't going to use it later [Chorus] TCR Total Control Racing TCR Total Control Racing [Verse 2] I arrange my coat on the front seat and blend it in with the low lighting People on the way out too, talking Everyone still looks like Ena Sharples and Ray Reardon People need to move on That '50s look can do one Elvis has definitely left the f**ing building I got a wine, large, shoved it down me, awful I hate the 5.8 I thought about it, I thought about his face when I asked if he had any Rioja He didn't like it Don't look at me like that Like you think I'm some wine twat I like it I sit in me house a lot Eventually you get an idea, little sh** Go and listen to some f**ing garage punk, you pointy little tit [Chorus] TCR Total Control Racing TCR Total Control Racing [Verse 3] The sofa sank, I couldn't relax I felt cramped but luckily the table next to me got up and left And apart from the eight empty pint gla**es they left on the table I thought it was the better bet, more upright I ain't slouching, I'm not a beatnik Although, this pub did call for that kind of angle I hate going out, going out is for young people I can't sit and enjoy a drink, I want the lot Have you got any numbers? And how much has he got? The trappings of luxury can't save you from the nail-biting boredom of repetitive brain injury The injury of your useless mind, stuck to the track Clinging onto years of that's not yours that's mine, give me it Total Control Racing, TCR Going round and round, under the bridges Slowing down, it's all about technique Hand shandy chic, under five second flat The tragedy of the male-less f**ing man [Chorus] TCR Total Control Racing TCR Total Control Racing TCR Total Control racing TCR Total Control Racing [Outro] Total Control Racing Total Control Racing