Dead cats and acrobats ticking off time
All on swing boats and tight ropes, bootfair and rhymes
Rolling dice with dots that move
Snakes, they say, climb ladders too
Lonely hearts and random darts
Chance is holding hands in front of you
Stamp the stones we intend to throw
The souls are young, the boots are old
The cast is half, the colour bold
The Tesco race is fixed I’m told
Nobodies currently in the throne
The windows see the bricks leave home
It’s razor sharp but blunt with us
We’re fucking bored and badly cut
Baby, baby, I’ll be your lover
But first I wanna see you recover from this