I hurt my soul, my soul was hurt on a private beach in Dunkirk

I stared at arse (or arts) the bikes went by on a private beach in Dunkirk

My wife clipped me, she clipped me good, I hurt my soul in manhood

Swinging arms, obedient commuters, tarmac beaches in Dunkirk

Swinging arms, frustrated commuters, bashing suits in Dunkirk

A safety pin right through the ear, forty years of manhood

Every Punk Trick in the Book

Crying infants and high tide, soldiers lost in Dunkirk

Sunken castles and Advil, underneath the arches of Dunkirk

My wife clipped me, she clipped me good, I hurt my soul in manhood

Swinging arms, obedient commuters on the impassioned streets by Dunkirk

Swinging arms, frustrated commuters, bashing suits in Dunkirk

A safety pin right through the ear, forty years of manhood

Every Punk Trick in the Book

And you want it to go somewhere?

And you want it to go somewhere?

And you want it to go somewhere?