British Hell

They call us walking corpses Unholy living dead Hey, they wanna lock us up Keep us in this British hell Cannibalise Hell of a life Pelican leg they bled The dead until the dead they come alive There comes a time we must all die In that moment Do a line Become the ones we have all hated Spelunk the queue This shit you knew The toilet line created Feel obliged We must arise And fuck them cunts that are giving eyes Feel it pumping through my chest The bass it bottoms the top of her spine You see her every other night She hates the times when I get wasted The landlock blues The shit we use The island we've created comes alive Hold you close if only for a second Use it as excuses but I bet he's got a weapon Hold you close if only for a second Use it as excuses but I bet he's got a weapon And now we're driving in her car In the dark In the deep, dank bush Panicking and trauma Guess it's something that I took Cos I never needed no-one I'm a self-made man But now I'm seeing double (double, double) Well I see her at the bar In The Star At the after-after-party I said "Do you like the coup de grâce?" Keep me warm up in the tap That feeling of half-empty I remember middle twenty I was arrogant and uncouth I know exactly who you are Hold you close if only for a second Use it as excuses but I bet he's got a weapon Hold you close if only for a second Use it as excuses but I bet he's got a weapon They call us walking corpses Unholy living dead They wanna lock us up Keep us in this British hell British hell But we still ain't talking and blistering Pills on the side When overseas expats are burning flags And vote that way is shocking But it ain't uncommon In this world to eat a lie To meet the demons in my head Demons in my bed