Pacemaker
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Juveniles, hide your porno mags
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The girl's got problems at her yard so she's packing up her bags full of rags
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Her man got down from Po Na Na
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While the Madre still in the kitchen smokes a 20-deck fags
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Body bags come back on planes from wartorn Iraq
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It's the stark naked truth, a dark aftermath
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Baby T, the juice and the dog just barks
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Remember man the bully always had the last laugh
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It was a blast last night down the old 12 Bar
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White socks, black shoes with the ballads in the car
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With a lump in the throat she won't understand
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Twos on a cigarette it's all blah blah
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Bloody obli obla dah glug down liquor
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Life goes on for all the daytrippers
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Starts off small but it's gonna get bigger
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By the end of this letter it may all be better
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Well she's always asking with the who, where and how
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The girls say ooh la la
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Well if I had another chance I'd do it differently now
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And the girls say ooh la la la la la la la
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From Trafalger Square where the crackpipe reeking
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To in your dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking
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You fell in love when you first started chatting
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But got so bored cause she never stopped speaking
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Consider this son on the bad behaviour
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He's keeping all the freebies, delivering the papers
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You hate us, shake down fakers
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Oh, you'll never get nowhere
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Cause I'm the pacemaker
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(Keepup, runny runny run run)
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Pretty please me, oh, she's easy on the eye
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Some say that today only the good young die
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Ipee-oh-kai-yay, it's been right good day
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I wanna ask questions but I don't mean to pry
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How did you get to where you going to before you came slowly moseying through this bar?
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You started your race, Jonny Cockeral wants his money
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Give up the man he's a fruit and nut bar
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(I'm serious, he's a real nutter)
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Oh, I gotta see the GP, coughing up lungs
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Doc says stop or you're going die young
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I haven't even started to do what I done
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You young don't listen, you just carry on
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Well, we heard it before when your song got sung
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Get a grip son
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Why?
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Cause you're always drunken
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We're not captains just skivvy sunken
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Humdrum drum, drum, live fast die young
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Mr Skin stumbling, the road rocky
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Trespassers on the private property
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Remember back then it was the ranter banter
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Young sons watched their young Pas get cancer
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Vagabond Sandy crying out for he missed her
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Missed her so much that he went drank the brewery
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So sing-a-long Sam this is a song about you
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We all went out and we got pissed-ola
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I don't wanna fight he's a right big cunt
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But the fellas say go on my son, my son
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It's all a bit of fun 'til someone gets done
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But the fellas say go on my son, my son
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Well, I'm more likely to pick up and run
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But the fellas say go on my son, my son
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Ah fuck it, well, he's a right big cunt
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But I'll knock him one, fuck that
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Run, run
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-----------------
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Pacemaker
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Jamie T |