Running off over next doors garden

Before the hour is done

It's more a question of feeling

Than it is a question of fun

The confidence is the balaclava

I'm sure you'll baffle em good

With the ending wreek of salty cheeks

And runny makeup alone

Oh will blood run down the face

Of a boy bewildered and scorned

And you'll find yourself in a skirmish

And you wish you'd never been born

And you tie yourself to the tracks

And there isn't no going back

And its wrong wrong wrong

But well do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble

Are you pulling her from a burning building

Or throwing her to the sharks

Can only hope the ending is a pleasurable as the start

The confidence is the balaclava, I'm sure you baffle em straight

And its wrong wrong wrong, she can hardly wait

Thats right, he wont let her out his sight

Now the shaggers perform

And the daggers are drawn

Who's the crooks in this crime?

Thats right, he wont let her out his sight

How the shaggers perform

And the daggers are drawn

Who's the crooks is this....

Crime!

Thats right, he wont let her out his sight

Thats right, he wont let her out his sight

Thats right, he wont let her out his sight

You'll be able to post any day of the most

For the sights of all time

You knew that he'd be trouble right before the very first kiss

Quiet and unassuming but you knew that they were the naughtiest

She pleaded with you to take it off

But you resisted and fought

Sorry sweetheart I'd much rather, keep on the balaclava.