Petrolhead
Lyrics
When, September lasts
for just two hours
the clash of glasses
crumbs in your lap
a glass spray super soaker
entertain me
as the clock, ticks off
the pennies.
Ball point precision
ink on the back of your hand
words you should've lived by
fumar mata.
Slow no motion
petrolhead
don't say things you can't take back
Do you understand jackpot,
the bottom of the bottle
of glory,
hayfever sufferer.
Sips of water
panic in the cellar
deep breaths on kegs.
But Red Rum won't run,
if he couldn't hear the gun.
Slow, no motion
petrolhead
don't say things you can't take back
(I'm fitter than a butchers dog)
(I'm fitter than a butchers dog)
The pest,
with a bad back
the expert of knowing,
ale was cheaper than telling his kids he loved them. Now at Christmas,
do they notice
one less
gift
of a half-hearted card.
Slow, no motion
petrolhead
don't say things you can't take back
When hands drank the soap
flies with fresher breath
I'm fitter than a butchers dog
fitter than a butchers dog
fitter than a butchers dog
fitter than a butchers dog
fitter than a butchers dog
fitter than a butchers dog
Writer(s): Thomas Holmes, Harrison Swann, George Sullivan, Chloë Stacey MacGregor
Copyright(s): Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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