[Intro - John Cooper Clarke:]
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Picture the fates of young fellows
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Too long in bed with no sleep
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With their complex romantic attachments
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All look on their sorrows and weep
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They don't get a moment's reflection
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There's always a crowd in their eye
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Pity the plight of young fellows
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Regard all their worries and cry
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Their Christian mothers were lazy perhaps
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Leaving it up to the school
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Where the moral perspective is hazy perhaps
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And the climate oppressively cruel
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Give me one acre of cellos
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Pitched at some distant regret
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Picture the fate of young fellows
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And their anxious attempts to forget
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[Sketch:]
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[Speaker 1:] So you're the bad man that killed Kerbie yeah?
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[Speaker 2:] Yeah
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[1:] And that little girl yeah?
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[2:] I didn't mean to kill her, it was an accident
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[1:] Do you know who that girl was though?
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[2:] [pause] Nah
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[1:] That was my fucking sister
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[3:] Chris man, just allow it
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[1:] Don't tell me to fucking allow it, you don't fucking know me
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[Verse 1 - Plan B:]
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These are the tears of a thug like murky water
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Crying tears as clear as mud for his father's daughter
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His half sister, he felt obliged to support her
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Since her mum was poor and her dad died even poorer
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Separated until she was eight years old
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He knew as soon as he saw her that he adored her
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So now he's paying for blood with a borer
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And an automatic weapon; Smith And Wesson
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That'd split a fucking hole in your chest length
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He's been looking to corner the perpetrators responsible for a killing
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Now that he's finally got them where he wants them
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Blood will start spilling
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The atmosphere in the air tonight is chilling
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The blanket of stars above their heads in the sky feels like a ceiling
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Slowly crushing down on them as the terror starts progressing
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That leaves the youngest of the two open to his suggestion
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Only thirteen years old; pubescent adolescent
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About to learn a very harsh and depressing lesson
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[Sketch:]
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[1:] Here, stab him up. Do it!
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[3:] Jake bruv, come on..
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[2:] I can't, I can't do that
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[1:] How the fuck do you think we got here?
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How the fuck do you think I know where you live?
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He offered to kill you earlier - for me!
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[2:] What
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What so you set me up?!
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Fucking talk to me bruv!
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[1:] That's it, get mad!
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[2:] You fucking used me bruv!
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[3:] I didn't tell you to fucking kill her
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[Verse 2 - Plan B:]
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These are the tears of a wanna-be thug
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Crying tears as thick as blood cause his elders set him up
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To take the fall and now he's stuck with no way of getting out
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Cause even if there was a way he'd still want to vent this anger out
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Without a doubt these street are rife with corruption
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Young minds get corrupted and so easily fucked with
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Only leads to destruction in the end; false assumptions
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That people have your back makes you believe they're your friends
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Although some represent; no one can be trusted
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One double-O percent cause some thugs will go to lengths
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To get revenge
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Even if it means manipulating youths to carry skengs
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And do the dirty work for them
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The kind of work for men
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That route the dark has past
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Not impressionable young children that never had a chance
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Growing up in these manors most are doomed from the start
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Cause the minds of their peers are as ill as their hearts
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[Sketch:]
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[1:] Get mad
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[2:] You fucking dickhead
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[1:] Do it
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[stabs him]
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[Outro - John Cooper Clarke:]
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Picture the fates of young fellows
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Too long in bed with no sleep
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With their complex romantic attachments
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All look on their sorrows and weep
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They don't get a moment's reflection
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There's always a crowd in their eye
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Pity the plight of young fellows
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Regard all their worries and cry
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-----------------
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Pity The Plight
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| Plan B |
