Scattle - Pacemaker lyrics

Juveniles, hide your p**no mags The girl's got problems at her yard So she's packing up her bags full of rags Her man got down from Po Na Na While the madre still in the kitchen Smokes a 20-deck f*gsBody bags come back on planes from war torn Iraq It's the stark naked truth, a dark aftermath Baby T, the juice and the dog just barks Remember man the bully always had the last laughIt was a blast last night down the old 12 Bar White socks, black shoes with the ballads in the car With a lump in a throat she won't understand Twos on a cigarette it's all blah blahBloody obli obla dah glug down liquor Life goes on for all the day trippers Starts off small but it's gonna get bigger By the end of this letter it may all be betterWell, she's always asking with the who, where and how The girls say, 'Ooh, la, la' Well, if I had another chance I'd do it differently now And the girls say, 'Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'From Trafalgar Square where the crack pipe reeking To in your dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking You fell in love when you first started chatting But got so bored 'cause she never stopped speakingConsider this son on the bad behavior He's keeping all the freebies, delivering the papers You hate us, shake down fakers Oh, you'll never get nowhere, 'cause I'm the pacemakerPretty please me, oh, she's easy on the eye Some say that today only the good young die Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's been right good day I wanna ask questions but I don't mean to pryHow did you get to where you're going To before you came slowly moseying through this bar? You started your race, Johny co*kerel wants his money back Give up the man he's a fruit and nut barOh, I gotta see the GP, coughing up lungs And the doc says, 'Stop or you're going die young' I haven't even started to do what I done You young don't listen, you just carry onWell, we heard this before when your song got sung Get a grip son, why? 'Cause you're always drunken We're not captains just skivvy sunken Humdrum drum, drum, live fast die youngMr. Skin stumbling, the road rocky And trespa**ers on the private property Remember back then it was the ranter banter Young sons watched their young Pa's get cancerVagabond Sandy crying out for he missed her Missed her so much that he went drank the brewery So sing-a-long Sam this is a song about you We all went out and we got pissed-olaI don't wanna fight, he's a right big c*nt But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my son' Well, it's all a bit of fun 'til someone gets done But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my son'Well, I'm more likely to pick up and run But the fellas say, 'Go on my son, my son' Ah f** it, well, he's a right big c*nt But I'll knock him one, f** that, run, run