We fell to the street, full of noise
With a view to bring the dawn in
But clashed with the Burtons' shirts
Who saw us as a chance for brawling
Well, they'd shopped and shaved like brain-dead clones
And bashed and bruised our skinny bones
For dressing slim and keeping shaggy heads
The doormen took to their chips
While we fashionably took a pasting
Then came down to give us a kick
From the doorway that we had laid in
Well, it's wonderful and glorious
To have the sh** kicked out of us
For dressing slim and keeping shaggy heads