The only limits we set
|
what can we get away with?
|
in that at least we're the same
|
the only way we find of hiding the hurt we feel
|
is more unnecessary pain
|
each time you
|
draw in like a breath
|
it comes out like a knife
|
you feel like offering yourself out
|
tonight
|
on what a fight
|
|
the little you can expect to get
|
to get from anyone else
|
makes you look after number one
|
the only helping hand
|
you'll ever be offered
|
is the one at the end of your own arm
|
|
draw in like a breath
|
it goes tight like a wire
|
you're trying to shout
|
but your lungs are on fire
|
|
draw in like a breath
|
it comes out like a knife
|
you feel like offering yourself
|
|
shoplifting my little brother
|
shoplifting my little sister
|
said all you got to do is
|
just a forward through the door
|
but when they come fe check you out
|
you no come back for more
|
shoplifting my little brederen
|
shoplifting my little sister
|
tell me which one would you prefer
|
one hundred pound fine
|
or three months in prison
|
me old cock sparra?
|
shoplifting shoplifting
|
shoplifting, but a shoplifting
|
|
-----------------
|
The limits we set
|
| The English Beat |
