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