Tekster:
Style Council The Confession Of A Pop Group

showers Like changing the guard it only lasts for hours, Wondering what and where did it go Crying over nothing worth crying for Once in a while -

ways of making cash Than waiting in parks and selling your arse. But I'm on the move and about to stay, Always old in a very young way. I'm a fool

I heard the bobby shout As he brought his friendly truncheon down with with a God Almighty clout. Mothers playing bingo, she's hoping for a big win

tomorrow they both will begin To regret and renege on a bond they have struck A small price to pay and casual luck Some lose nothing - some lose a

too much - once I realised you. Confessions of a peeping Tom Watching life - take its clothes off, Stripped for all the world to see At the time - I could not see! Confessions

selling off 3 2 1 in others terms Win a life sentence and a queen mum perm The individual's the state, in a state of siege Do pop, press and mix, do