Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Streets
The Streets
Performer
Mike Skinner
Mike Skinner
Vocals
Kevin Mark Trail
Kevin Mark Trail
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mike Skinner
Mike Skinner
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike Skinner
Mike Skinner
Producer

Lyrics

Ayy, ayy Like a little theatre show That we used to make as kids of cardboard when we were home Looking down from in the gods as people go on below Trapped inside the nightclub, tiny little minds are alone Lighting passing overhead which misses some And then finds them like they are prison-breaking from Alcatraz into their minds Heavens say they sin just for fun Of the seven deadly sins envy is the only not fun Way-oh Too much yayo Way-oh Too much yayo Get some chips Living in the present is like Trying to sit on the very, very head of a pin Which is why we try to lose our heads whatever the thing But you can't run away from there's no place that far Pin-balling around to the rhythm Hitting the points and bouncing straight back between flippers and in People are so pleased that their plight They are not the first to feel this, not even tonight Ay, why do I never learn? Monday, Tuesday, my head feeling hurt Wednesday, done doing death Thursday, Friday, come do it again Leave the ash on your cigarette and wait for it to fall Feel the alleyway is full, you wait for nothing at all Smiling like he's loving a text But he's watching his own Snapchat 'cause he's loving his self He don't like pain, but he must quite like hell He don't like cocaine, he just quite likes the smell Crying's the weapon of the weak Slander is the anger if you after getting nowhere Way-oh Too much yayo Way-oh Ay, why do I never learn Monday, Tuesday, my head feeling hurt Wednesday, done doing death Thursday, Friday, come do it again Way-oh Too much yayo Way-oh Too much yayo Like a little theatre show That we used to make as kids of cardboard when we were home Looking down from in the gods as people go on below Trapped inside the nightclub, tiny little minds are alone Lighting passing overhead which misses some And then finds them like they are prison-breaking from Alcatraz into their minds Heavens say they sin just for fun Of the seven deadly sins envy is the only not fun Way-oh Too much yayo Way-oh Too much yayo I can be to be in this show That we used to make
Writer(s): Michael Geoffrey Skinner Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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