Hold On

Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
And a-run-run-running

People tend to ask me what I do with my time
I don’t answer the question, I just say I’m doing fine
I don’t get a bank check
We just do a line check
And all the money goes
To the fucking sound check
Five dollar note
Money money money
Five dollar note
I ain’t got no fucking money
But that’s okay, come on that’s just fine
Cos we rock up upon the stage
At quarter past nine
Then we get a rider
Two house beers
Drink ‘em real quickly
And here’s the idea
While them other bands are playing
I’m gonna drink their rider
And if they get shitty, like the States, I’ll blame Al Qaeda

Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
And a-run-run-running

My days are getting longer
But it ain’t that bad
I’m enjoying the mornings
But the winter makes me sad
I don’t like the talk
And the cold makes me sad
And I’m tending’ to forget the awesome summer that we had
So I roll up a joint and a skate roll bounce
I’m approaching the end of this half-ounce
Can I bomb a stick?
I’ll smoke it on a tick
I’m smoking up with my friends until the very end
Hugs and drugs and rudeboy jams
Living in the moment no master plan
Up until sunlight
Down until moonlight
Every single night is a Saturday night, alright!

Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
So hooooold

Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
Hold on
I’m coming
It’s your song
I’ll be strumming
So hooo-ooold on