Punches kicks trenches and swords

Smashed glass, hooded masks
Picking your best mate last, your mother got it wrong
Upstanding citizen, you were
Her favourite son but your life’s ruled by a song
You don’t need us to spoon
Feed answers into your very capable mouth
We refuse to take responsibility for inventing the lout

Take me back, take me back, I don’t want to stay
You know about this, you know
About this and what can you say?
It never used to be this way
Looking back from the past to the present day
Punches, kicks trenches and swords

Lets meet miss dirty feet, who pays for your kids
To eat while you spend all day on the phone?
Sack that I take it back, I know the answer
To that question because your types well known
16 Years who appears? Little miss dirty
Feet all having kids of their own
Trisha’s on, their favourite mum’s handed
The blueprints out on how to create a free home