In Quiet Streets
๐ต 2860 characters
โฑ๏ธ 4:16 duration
๐ ID: 6026210
๐ Lyrics
Chaw, chaw, hmm
Weaning it on my angle, you fucking satanist
Its not a Pentangle, Arthur
No druids, out of date barrel fluids
I go large for a pound and regret it
Greasy, a sharp contrast from my newly adopted organic nice mate
Easy variety is the lie of life, no lonely hearts club
Just a lonely collection of moose-face bastards
Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters
The chirping cunt obviously wants the country in tatters
They all do, two arms, two legs, fuck you
Fuck you all, we don't want radio play
We're not fucking Cannon and Ball
Smashed houses, super farts
Ta, ra, ta, ra, la, la, la, shit trousers
That's the angle
That's the angle
Wobbly chops, wobble at you
Firm men snot the chop, I'll dob ya
Arthur, side car mayhem
Cold streets, the hum of the traffic lights
Peddle bikes, do what you want, ya what nat?
Have it dom, I can't eat any more bought in cakes
That taste like koala waste
Eucalyptus, you can fuck off
I pick blackberries near the old contact centre
The smell of late summer in spring, we step, they stop
Advancement is only regarded as a good day in the money shop
Cheques got cashed, nowhere money in nowhere land
That's the angle
That's the angle
That's the angle
Donors appear as hate
But in the old days you had to lead a group of men up a hill
And got 'em shot by the locals mate
Not now, now money murders
We put our souls in nursery for the day
Pick 'em up after work, take 'em home
Try 'n get 'em in bed tucked up before 10 o'clock
Good drones, organic, the new church donation .org
The virtual soap box in the park
You got a mouthful, justify the nouce, spit ya venom
The rulers don't care it's still the 70's
And they laugh at our ugly double denim
We are the wooden horses on wooden race courses at fairs
The top prize is damaged organs and nobody cares
Death before your contact extension, puke on you
They will assist in matters that don't fucking interest you
Keep it going
Mumbling procedure over the phone into ears that are having a seizure
The seizure isn't actually a physical crack
It's your body trying to take itself back
From rules, rules on mules in backpacks
Over mountains that only exist in your mind trap
Crevice, green bins terrace, steak club Tuesday
Gets Ales called Mother of Ruby, five point eight
I ruined my first pint of Abbott getting two of those fucking things in mate
Battered in a blanket of cheap meat, tweet
I been on line since 2006
My login is Jason-wants-to-know-why-he-can't-fuckin'-log-in-Keith
Back office it, pass it on
Fuck 'em, they can sort the problem (problem)
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
Asacha, hmm!
In quiet
Weaning it on my angle, you fucking satanist
Its not a Pentangle, Arthur
No druids, out of date barrel fluids
I go large for a pound and regret it
Greasy, a sharp contrast from my newly adopted organic nice mate
Easy variety is the lie of life, no lonely hearts club
Just a lonely collection of moose-face bastards
Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters
The chirping cunt obviously wants the country in tatters
They all do, two arms, two legs, fuck you
Fuck you all, we don't want radio play
We're not fucking Cannon and Ball
Smashed houses, super farts
Ta, ra, ta, ra, la, la, la, shit trousers
That's the angle
That's the angle
Wobbly chops, wobble at you
Firm men snot the chop, I'll dob ya
Arthur, side car mayhem
Cold streets, the hum of the traffic lights
Peddle bikes, do what you want, ya what nat?
Have it dom, I can't eat any more bought in cakes
That taste like koala waste
Eucalyptus, you can fuck off
I pick blackberries near the old contact centre
The smell of late summer in spring, we step, they stop
Advancement is only regarded as a good day in the money shop
Cheques got cashed, nowhere money in nowhere land
That's the angle
That's the angle
That's the angle
Donors appear as hate
But in the old days you had to lead a group of men up a hill
And got 'em shot by the locals mate
Not now, now money murders
We put our souls in nursery for the day
Pick 'em up after work, take 'em home
Try 'n get 'em in bed tucked up before 10 o'clock
Good drones, organic, the new church donation .org
The virtual soap box in the park
You got a mouthful, justify the nouce, spit ya venom
The rulers don't care it's still the 70's
And they laugh at our ugly double denim
We are the wooden horses on wooden race courses at fairs
The top prize is damaged organs and nobody cares
Death before your contact extension, puke on you
They will assist in matters that don't fucking interest you
Keep it going
Mumbling procedure over the phone into ears that are having a seizure
The seizure isn't actually a physical crack
It's your body trying to take itself back
From rules, rules on mules in backpacks
Over mountains that only exist in your mind trap
Crevice, green bins terrace, steak club Tuesday
Gets Ales called Mother of Ruby, five point eight
I ruined my first pint of Abbott getting two of those fucking things in mate
Battered in a blanket of cheap meat, tweet
I been on line since 2006
My login is Jason-wants-to-know-why-he-can't-fuckin'-log-in-Keith
Back office it, pass it on
Fuck 'em, they can sort the problem (problem)
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
Asacha, hmm!
In quiet
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:04.59] Chaw, chaw, hmm
[00:08.21] Weaning it on my angle, you fucking satanist
[00:10.92] Its not a Pentangle, Arthur
[00:12.70] No druids, out of date barrel fluids
[00:14.83] I go large for a pound and regret it
[00:16.86] Greasy, a sharp contrast from my newly adopted organic nice mate
[00:20.90] Easy variety is the lie of life, no lonely hearts club
[00:24.02] Just a lonely collection of moose-face bastards
[00:26.72] Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters
[00:29.75] The chirping cunt obviously wants the country in tatters
[00:33.13] They all do, two arms, two legs, fuck you
[00:35.26] Fuck you all, we don't want radio play
[00:38.00] We're not fucking Cannon and Ball
[00:39.80] Smashed houses, super farts
[00:41.15] Ta, ra, ta, ra, la, la, la, shit trousers
[00:45.48] That's the angle
[00:46.97]
[00:52.19] That's the angle
[00:53.61]
[00:58.55] Wobbly chops, wobble at you
[01:00.14] Firm men snot the chop, I'll dob ya
[01:02.84] Arthur, side car mayhem
[01:04.64] Cold streets, the hum of the traffic lights
[01:07.14] Peddle bikes, do what you want, ya what nat?
[01:09.39] Have it dom, I can't eat any more bought in cakes
[01:12.04] That taste like koala waste
[01:13.61] Eucalyptus, you can fuck off
[01:16.07] I pick blackberries near the old contact centre
[01:19.52] The smell of late summer in spring, we step, they stop
[01:23.22] Advancement is only regarded as a good day in the money shop
[01:26.94] Cheques got cashed, nowhere money in nowhere land
[01:31.66] That's the angle
[01:36.37] That's the angle
[01:42.69] That's the angle
[01:44.28]
[01:49.08] Donors appear as hate
[01:50.42] But in the old days you had to lead a group of men up a hill
[01:53.12] And got 'em shot by the locals mate
[01:54.88] Not now, now money murders
[01:56.68] We put our souls in nursery for the day
[01:58.80] Pick 'em up after work, take 'em home
[02:00.70] Try 'n get 'em in bed tucked up before 10 o'clock
[02:03.56] Good drones, organic, the new church donation .org
[02:07.83] The virtual soap box in the park
[02:10.26] You got a mouthful, justify the nouce, spit ya venom
[02:13.73] The rulers don't care it's still the 70's
[02:16.35] And they laugh at our ugly double denim
[02:18.55] We are the wooden horses on wooden race courses at fairs
[02:22.58] The top prize is damaged organs and nobody cares
[02:26.47] Death before your contact extension, puke on you
[02:30.26] They will assist in matters that don't fucking interest you
[02:38.47] Keep it going
[02:39.46] Mumbling procedure over the phone into ears that are having a seizure
[02:43.72] The seizure isn't actually a physical crack
[02:46.31] It's your body trying to take itself back
[02:48.15] From rules, rules on mules in backpacks
[02:52.24] Over mountains that only exist in your mind trap
[02:55.28] Crevice, green bins terrace, steak club Tuesday
[02:59.05] Gets Ales called Mother of Ruby, five point eight
[03:02.69] I ruined my first pint of Abbott getting two of those fucking things in mate
[03:06.72] Battered in a blanket of cheap meat, tweet
[03:09.48] I been on line since 2006
[03:11.63] My login is Jason-wants-to-know-why-he-can't-fuckin'-log-in-Keith
[03:15.98] Back office it, pass it on
[03:17.85] Fuck 'em, they can sort the problem (problem)
[03:22.03]
[03:29.53] The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
[03:33.07] Basement revs my dreams
[03:36.17] Of bitter minds on seats with pints
[03:39.35] In quiet streets
[03:42.56] The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
[03:45.66] Basement revs my dreams
[03:48.85] Of bitter minds on seats with pints
[03:52.06] In quiet streets
[03:59.12] In quiet streets
[04:05.39] In quiet streets
[04:08.63] Asacha, hmm!
[04:12.45] In quiet
[04:14.64]
[00:08.21] Weaning it on my angle, you fucking satanist
[00:10.92] Its not a Pentangle, Arthur
[00:12.70] No druids, out of date barrel fluids
[00:14.83] I go large for a pound and regret it
[00:16.86] Greasy, a sharp contrast from my newly adopted organic nice mate
[00:20.90] Easy variety is the lie of life, no lonely hearts club
[00:24.02] Just a lonely collection of moose-face bastards
[00:26.72] Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters
[00:29.75] The chirping cunt obviously wants the country in tatters
[00:33.13] They all do, two arms, two legs, fuck you
[00:35.26] Fuck you all, we don't want radio play
[00:38.00] We're not fucking Cannon and Ball
[00:39.80] Smashed houses, super farts
[00:41.15] Ta, ra, ta, ra, la, la, la, shit trousers
[00:45.48] That's the angle
[00:46.97]
[00:52.19] That's the angle
[00:53.61]
[00:58.55] Wobbly chops, wobble at you
[01:00.14] Firm men snot the chop, I'll dob ya
[01:02.84] Arthur, side car mayhem
[01:04.64] Cold streets, the hum of the traffic lights
[01:07.14] Peddle bikes, do what you want, ya what nat?
[01:09.39] Have it dom, I can't eat any more bought in cakes
[01:12.04] That taste like koala waste
[01:13.61] Eucalyptus, you can fuck off
[01:16.07] I pick blackberries near the old contact centre
[01:19.52] The smell of late summer in spring, we step, they stop
[01:23.22] Advancement is only regarded as a good day in the money shop
[01:26.94] Cheques got cashed, nowhere money in nowhere land
[01:31.66] That's the angle
[01:36.37] That's the angle
[01:42.69] That's the angle
[01:44.28]
[01:49.08] Donors appear as hate
[01:50.42] But in the old days you had to lead a group of men up a hill
[01:53.12] And got 'em shot by the locals mate
[01:54.88] Not now, now money murders
[01:56.68] We put our souls in nursery for the day
[01:58.80] Pick 'em up after work, take 'em home
[02:00.70] Try 'n get 'em in bed tucked up before 10 o'clock
[02:03.56] Good drones, organic, the new church donation .org
[02:07.83] The virtual soap box in the park
[02:10.26] You got a mouthful, justify the nouce, spit ya venom
[02:13.73] The rulers don't care it's still the 70's
[02:16.35] And they laugh at our ugly double denim
[02:18.55] We are the wooden horses on wooden race courses at fairs
[02:22.58] The top prize is damaged organs and nobody cares
[02:26.47] Death before your contact extension, puke on you
[02:30.26] They will assist in matters that don't fucking interest you
[02:38.47] Keep it going
[02:39.46] Mumbling procedure over the phone into ears that are having a seizure
[02:43.72] The seizure isn't actually a physical crack
[02:46.31] It's your body trying to take itself back
[02:48.15] From rules, rules on mules in backpacks
[02:52.24] Over mountains that only exist in your mind trap
[02:55.28] Crevice, green bins terrace, steak club Tuesday
[02:59.05] Gets Ales called Mother of Ruby, five point eight
[03:02.69] I ruined my first pint of Abbott getting two of those fucking things in mate
[03:06.72] Battered in a blanket of cheap meat, tweet
[03:09.48] I been on line since 2006
[03:11.63] My login is Jason-wants-to-know-why-he-can't-fuckin'-log-in-Keith
[03:15.98] Back office it, pass it on
[03:17.85] Fuck 'em, they can sort the problem (problem)
[03:22.03]
[03:29.53] The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
[03:33.07] Basement revs my dreams
[03:36.17] Of bitter minds on seats with pints
[03:39.35] In quiet streets
[03:42.56] The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
[03:45.66] Basement revs my dreams
[03:48.85] Of bitter minds on seats with pints
[03:52.06] In quiet streets
[03:59.12] In quiet streets
[04:05.39] In quiet streets
[04:08.63] Asacha, hmm!
[04:12.45] In quiet
[04:14.64]