A little after 12
The function suite was full
With people I had never seen before
Ripped up ticket stamps
Confetied on the floor
It dawned on me I’d seen it all before
Cool your beans my son
You look a f**king mess
No one’s getting out of here, tonight
Hit that button there
The one that just says wrong
We’ll lose our lives through all our favourite songs
Go forward later to find your flat on your feet
When you weren’t in the room I was nailed to my seat
I ‘m like a prisoner getting ready to stalk
I feel the blood in my hands and the step in your walk
And suddenly I lift the roof off the place
And there’s a fault in my step
And a grin on my face
You can’t contain me but you did it on me
Get me back in my box
And snap the branches off me
A little after 4
The function suite is dead
And I am just a ripped up ticket stamp
Here’s a helping hand
A voice that’s far too close
And I am up and on my broken limbs
Go forward later to find your flat on your feet
When you weren’t in the room I was nailed to my seat
I ‘m like a prisoner getting ready to stalk
I feel the blood in my hands and the thread in your walk
And suddenly I lift the roof off the place
There’s a fault in my step
There’s a grin on my face
You can’t contain me but you did it on me
To Get me back in my box
And snap the branches off me
And suddenly I lift the roof off the place
And there’s a fault in my step
And a grin on my face
You can’t contain me but you did it on me
To Get me back in my box
And snap the branches off me
Writer(s): Paul Wilson, Nathan Connolly, Tom Simpson, Jonathan Graham Quinn, Gary Lightbody
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com