Testo
Scratch one more to the body count
Another dead kid you don't care about
Forget what the paper reads
Safe in your house while another kid bleeds
Every one of us to blame
For each capital teen who died in vain
We are fucking worse, if not the same
We read the filth, but forget their names
No money for a funeral
'Til you sell your story out to the world
Hoods up, knives out, "Protect ya neck!"
With no remorse, and no respect
For every teen who lost their life
Hung on the end of a kitchen knife
Carve this cross into your chest
To remind you of this fucking mess
Kitchen knives and the silent kill
Gunshots start the rumour mill
Let's take this back to the old school
Live our lives by the Queensberry rules
Two fists clenched tight
Two fucking wrong-uns who both think there're right
The bigger they are, the harder they fucking fall
No money for a funeral
'Til you sell your story out to the world
Hoods up, knives out, "Protect ya neck!"
No remorse, and no respect
For every teen who lost their life
Hung on the end of a kitchen knife
We'll carve this cross into your chest
To remind you of the fucking mess
The union jack has bled away
It's black and white, and it's fucking grey
The cells are cold, the streets the same
It's been a dead summer, and we're praying for rain
Your heart of gold is dead and cold
You wonder when your dreams got old
Walk yourselves down to the thames
Throw you knives in so this can end
