Middle Men Songtext
von Sleaford Mods
Middle Men Songtext
New Labour
The metropolis of discontent and lost dreams
Benson and messes and Denim Jeans
I′m gutted, I didn't think y′would
Fly-tippin' down at The Sherwood
The clink of strong drink, racing green paint crack Victorian sinks
And flushed is the system, I can't swim, so I sink
The Earth moves the kerb, it makes the fag areas stink
Warp like a tree and bitter twist nicotine we be
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Monda dinner Archway
Dead the drink of a victim, bad brains
The dead man′s milk
Wilko′s will have it, they got everything
The dome on the stately home, we got painted in the fumes from commuters
Make my bacon, threaten strangers with shooters
Car stereo shops that launder dirty dosh
Don't look you in the eye when you walk yo′ dog
I bet they're all battered in the back on that Hedgehog, Sonic
Level in ten minutes, two minutes flat
Whole bloody fuckin′ shop's on it, whoa
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Nine hundred pounds for a picture of Debbie Harry in art shops
Make me laugh my head off
Instead, with a feelin′ of nothin'
Floating your ears, miss each other
They don't do much
Talking like props in a film about Top Gun
Tears, Top Gun glasses
The new opium for the lasses
Rescue dog like, fuck, the wood catches fire
Patrick Cox loafers size, ten in brown
Loved them, out the shop window is still controlled by the man, lol
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Where are we going?
Where are we going?
New Labour
The metropolis of discontent and lost dreams
Benson and messes and Denim Jeans
I′m gutted, I didn't think y′would
Fly-tippin' down at The Sherwood
The clink of strong drink, racing green paint crack Victorian sinks
And flushed is the system, I can't swim, so I sink
The Earth moves the kerb, it makes the fag areas stink
Warp like a tree and bitter twist nicotine we be
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Monda dinner Archway
Dead the drink of a victim, bad brains
The dead man′s milk
Wilko′s will have it, they got everything
The dome on the stately home, we got painted in the fumes from commuters
Make my bacon, threaten strangers with shooters
Car stereo shops that launder dirty dosh
Don't look you in the eye when you walk yo′ dog
I bet they're all battered in the back on that Hedgehog, Sonic
Level in ten minutes, two minutes flat
Whole bloody fuckin′ shop's on it, whoa
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Nine hundred pounds for a picture of Debbie Harry in art shops
Make me laugh my head off
Instead, with a feelin′ of nothin'
Floating your ears, miss each other
They don't do much
Talking like props in a film about Top Gun
Tears, Top Gun glasses
The new opium for the lasses
Rescue dog like, fuck, the wood catches fire
Patrick Cox loafers size, ten in brown
Loved them, out the shop window is still controlled by the man, lol
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Middle men, the metropolis of discontent
Red and orange lights and old men
Where are we going?
Where are we going?
New Labour
Writer(s): Jason Williamson, Andrew Robert Fearn Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
