199x

In a terraced house in Rubery haunts The ghost of something awful Crushing dark and normal Like the night we made yr parents divorce Days spent playing rebels Pushing our own funeral forwards, forwards I almost fucked you on the couch in the lounge Teenagers are useless Cause a brittle christmas And the glass shards sparkle sharp in the snow Outside for the romance Inside for the lust And I want you, want you, want you, want you And I want you, want you, want you, want you I heard you kept a diary Of all the gone-wrongs And I know you won’t believe me I think yr one of the lucky ones (lucky ones) I think yr one of them You walked a long way with yr dignity crowned If yr your mothers anger I’m my fathers grave And we’re back on our old shaky ground You don’t believe in ghosts But that terracted house in rubery Haunts you, haunts you, haunts you, haunts you Haunts you, haunts you, haunts you, haunts you I heard you kept a diary Of all the gone-wrongs And I know you won’t believe me I think yr one of the lucky ones (lucky ones) I think yr one of them