Shiny brown skin like the melting tar On a sticky summer road Finger on the trigger Words like bullets blast the brain Nails a brittle edge of a breaking glass
some assistance from the friends that we had known But this is the 1980s and we were on our own We never felt like heroes or martyrs to a cause Just battle
this existence, just being English upbringing, background carribean 3D It's the way that we ?bility? Sharing a soliloquy We cut the broken thread from
mostly gets lonely How we live in this existence, just being English upbringing, background carribean 3D It's the way that we ?bility? Sharing a soliloquy We cut the broken
smilin' teeth, you know they ain't my own. Mine rolled away like Chiclets down a street in San Antone. But I left that person cursin', nursin' seven broken bones. And he only broke
of little people who'll put you in the ground. Well, take a burning issue and stuff it up your arse. They've fucked you with a furrowed brow, shitting broken glass
love Where they've saved a place for innocence And what is still mysterious And their dreaming time They're dreaming time Because we've broken down
The found him slumped over the wheel, horn blowing Bullet holes showing, property stolen, motor still going Driving side door, waves scoping, the window is broken Glass
chasers Lone star drinkers Midnight ramblers Dirty road divas Highway gamblers Moonshine mommas Panty droppers Dali llamas Old pill poppers High school heroes
no time's run out I'd almost rather have the latter Save myself with sad defeat A stone just broke my hour- glass I peel the skin that had me trapped
on all counts. The bailiff came at me with a pair of cuffs in his hand He was taking me to jail, but that wasn't my plan I broke the arm off my chair
wish brought you contentment? You damned the rescue boat to sea who can save us now? We're all gonna drown Oh, no Broken bottles lay like stain glass
that we know Release tension, you're my hero After dark, terror in the town high street And I know you can't stop full throttle Get involved mate, broken
reflection A broken looking glass what you've become We all wonder what's in the conscience of the king Does he think of the dead or the heroes gone
his road with the golden bricks To the glory and the fame. Yesterday's hero sits quiet and low. Promises of future lies shattered like broken glass.
of words That you keep in the garage Together with the feather and the fireworks A surftown hero who's got one foot in the garden Where the neon-lighted cocktail glasses
romantic interludes Till they commit themselves to the muted journey home And the pool player rests on another cue Last nights hero picking up his