Da um
Da um
Da um
Da um
Suddenly there's a knock at your head
Don't let them in because they're trying to take your TV set
Ha ha ha happiness is the ball in your hand you've got to try and throw this party just as far as you can
Ooooh wah wah ooooh
Cre Cre Cre creosote is pouring out of my brain
I swear I heard the floorboards they were creaking your name
Get a room, get a head get a hat
We're going to hell anyway, let's travel first class
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
Watching the boys on their motorbikes
I wanna be like those guys, I wanna wear my clothes tight
Matching jackets and a fistful of notes
New sneakers and a fresh pack of smokes
P-p-p-pneumothorax is a word that is long
They're just tryin? to put the punk back into punctured lung
Pe pe pe panic over party off party on
'Cos we are birds of a feather and you can be the fat one
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
Over your heads like a satellite
I wanna see what they see, I wanna love you like crazy
When cameras are pointing right at your face
Can see into your room from outer space
Wa ooh wa oh
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
It's not the size of the man in the fight
I wanna know what that does, I wanna show youwhat matters
Cos it's the size of the fight in the man
What makes the difference and decides who is champ
Cut through the city on a Saturday Night
Cos you and me we're on the edge of a knife
Cut through the city on a Saturday Night
I asked your mother and she said its alright
We'll get married when we're thirty
I wanna do it on your birthday
Cos I don't wanna waste a moment with you
I just wanna dance the whole night through
Cut through the city on a Saturday Night
Cos you and me are we're on the edge of a knife
Writer(s): Nicholas Hodgson, Nicholas Baines, James Rix, Charles Richard Wilson, Andrew Robert White
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com