[Intro: Spoken]
Oi! Oi! What you fucking doing?
That's my car mate
Seriously stop doing that man
Oi! Come on, that's my car bro
Right, give me that fucking can, give me that fucking brush you cunt
Give me that fucking can
Oi! Come back here
[Verse 1: Plan B]
Once upon a time there was a guy called Mick
Who was walking down the street one day and just switched
So many pretty colours made him sick
So he bought a can of paint and a brush to paint blick
All the whips that he passed that were parked on the street
And all the front doors on the yards full of peeps, all the cars and the jeeps
That were black, he leaves
The paint in his can
For the reds and the greens
And the ones in between, like purple and brown
You could paint on them straight, not circle around
He weren't happy till he saw them blacked out
Had a look on his eyes like he was cracked out
Looking macked out with a trench coat and his back slouched
Paint black out, and leave everything as black now
Not leaving even one stone unturned
He remember shit turns black when it burns, so he burns
All the leaves and the trees in the park
That are marked with "I was here and so was Mark" inside a heart
Engraved by kids bunking school in the park, young love
They thought they'd be together for eternity
But the flame went out like these burning trees
That are now the colour Mick wants to see:
Charcoal Black with a capital B
[Chorus: The Rolling Stones]
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colours anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
[Verse 2: Plan B]
Mick sees the girls walk by in the summer clothes
For a split second his darkness goes
But it ain't long till he's back in his darkest mould
And the darkness grows
He turns his head back
So he can paint black the red rose
He snatched from the bush that is black
'Cause he painted that with a brush in his hand
And the paint in his can that is now on the van
Eight cars and two jeeps that are parked on the street
And all the front doors in the yard full of peeps
A dead green seagull by his feet that is turning blue
Makes him weep
Tears start streaming down his cheek
As they fall from his chin onto the beak
Of the bird that is laying in the gutter of the street
By the kerb
Something's going on, something deep and absurd inside of Mick's head
Why does he care so much?
Give a shit that it's dead? I guess we'll never know
What's up with this tortured soul
Painting shit black
As he turns a dead seagull that from front to back
[Chorus 2: The Rolling Stones]
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black
[Verse 3: Plan B]
Everything is black now
Even the dogs and the cats now
Dogs bark, cats miaow
But Mick just won't back down
He wants to paint the city
And everything inside it
All the girls that are looking pretty
And all the men that tried it
With them. If he had his way he'd paint the whole of bricks
And he's sick in the head, ain't nothing gonna calm him down
Motherfucker's gone barmy now
The only thing that could stop him is the army now
Take away his paint can and disarm him now
Hold on, wait, said he was calming down
Looking at something sticking out the ground
In the cemetery
Underneath a tree that he just didn't see before
Or
Maybe he saw it
Before but just ignored it
Anyhow, now he's walking towards it
Minus the can and a brush 'cause as soon as he saw it
He dropped that shit in a rush man, all of it
'Cause he was so in awe of it
So in awe of this hefty new grave
Engraved with the name Ruby Tuesday
A natural beauty, no Oil of Ulay needed to make it shine like a new day
But not today
'Cause she's dead
Laying in a hole in the floor instead
Being alive and looking live and red
From what guys have said
Being live in bed
And alive at head
Holy shit! What the fuck?
Mick's eyes are full of tears
Head looks like it's gonna bust. He sees a bus and starts to rush towards it
Past the line of hearses in the street
On the way to put somebody six feet deep
In the dirt
He wishes it was him, can't deal with the hurt
Even when he jacks up 'cause the drugs don't work
They just make it worse
And time is something that he can't reverse
So he looks at the Sun then runs towards it
Straight into the road
We're on the 58 bus, the driver's floored it, 'cause he don't know
Mick's about to come out of nowhere
So when he hits Mick it's all over so they're left lying on the floor
As a tortured soul bre's
Body all tortured up but no soul there
[Chorus 3: The Rolling Stones]
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
[Scratches by Beni G]
READ MORE ABOUT PLAN B (UK)
