Shit Streets Runny

I used to be a part of that door swings open, swagger to the bar crew Saturday starts at four, get fuckin' nailed down The Oak Fly into the city in my techni-coloured dream coat Stories told all night about a Rambo-style attack On any fuckin' asshole in a sheep shagger's mac I lived my file on an empty tank Full of shaggy tit wank, blankety blank And I always made sure the fuckin' contestants got it wrong Bow, bow I fill the frightening void with a chirpy attitude Good as gold, I'm a nasty bastard in stage tights And mate, I tread the boards And I'll bring the fuckin' curtain down with my uneducated hordes Used to be shit streets runny I used to be shit streets runny I used to be shit streets runny I used to be- Attention to detail, attention to detail I need a fuckin' bath, you ain't no road-runner You ain't no shoot, shoot the runner Shit, take on it Meanwhile, back at the crap cave I trod on my cape by mistake And fell into the fridge, mate I fuckin' hate Northern Soul It's like Motown's on the dole And the Housing Benefit bouncers ain't happy with the inspection Brian Eno, what the fuck does he know? Doodling away with a fuckin' alien haircut, mate Head louse, I built a swimming pool in my living room And I called it Deep House You're so edgy, mate You're so edgy Crap bands, I play to a crowd of no-one, but have got loads of online fans I'm cynical, mate, yet bitter I post horrible messages to successful musicians on me smartphone Fuckin' Twitter The dew on the grass in the park Slap me round the face I woke up, what the fuck you doin' in this place? It's not the wankers or the misplaced weaks The fuckin' dodgy roofers, mate