[originally by Happy Mondays]
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I wrote for luck
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They sent me you
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I sent for juice
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They sent me poison
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I hold the line
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You form a queue
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Try nothing hard
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There's nothing else you can do
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You can try
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But you can't chain me
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I can sniff, bend, stand and bend and roll over
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I don't breathe
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I just dance
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There's more than one sign
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And it's getting less
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When you're wet
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You're getting dryer
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You used to speak the truth
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But now you're a liar
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You used to speak the truth
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But now you're clever
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I wrote for luck
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They sent me you
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I sent for juice
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They sent me poison
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I hold the line
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You form a queue
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Try nothing hard
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There's nothing else you can do
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And when you're wet
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You're getting dryer
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You used to speak the truth
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But now you're a liar
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You used to speak the truth
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But now you're clever
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And when it's hot
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You start to melt
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Cos you're not made of cheese
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You're made of chocolate
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And when it's cold
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You tend to cry
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Keep on piling out
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And not putting by
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Wrote For Luck
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| Manic Street Preachers |
