So this husband came home drunk each night. And he thrashed her black and he thrashed her white. He thrashed her to within an inch of her life. Then he slept like a log, did her husband.
So this husband came home drunk each night. And he thrashed her black and he thrashed her white. He thrashed her to within an inch of her life. Then he slept like a log, did her husband.
One, two, three, four. Slap. . Fleet Street fell in love. But the girl proved hard to get. Took a seat at the old boy's club. But wouldn't share the bed.
All gathered 'round the 18th tee. With pringle and tartan and shooting sticks. Binoculars, poised, ready to use. Watching, waiting, there it goes!. Great shot!.
Part punk, part god almighty. Part fuck you, part mister x-ray eyes. I didn't choose to be. Shouting for a living, it happened. Something snapped and I don't know why.