Get up early every morning
Just to put your make up on
The wardrobe's full of useless clothes
Your winter coats are gone
The jackal pack is feeding
The motorway sweeps down
The council tries to bribe the rich
Just to stay in town
Ch:
Get me out
Get me out of this place
Get me out of this trap
Get me out of my brain
Ysidro down to Melbourne
The pressure starts to build
The bullets fly at random
When you least expect they will
Everybody feels guilty
So anyone can pay
I'm just surprised it doesn't happen every bloody day
Ch
So here come the nineties
The temperature is rising
I cannot seem to loose the stains
When I wash my hands
One world is rising,
One world is dying
And one has got it's precious head
Buried in the sand
Writer(s): Nelson, Robert Charles Heaton, Justin Edward Sullivan
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