Meat Teeth Lyrics
Where will you be?
Alone on your meat rack? Poundshop Balzac, where will you be?
Up against some television piss wall, gimp-faced clown in hand-me-downs. Plastic frowns. Where will you be?
Endless fuck-all. Lazy fucking free-for-all. Glued to the phone, in that room full of people but all alone, eyes blue glow. Where will you be?
That male prick shit. Letting fucking rip. Tippy tap tip tip, usual shit, tweeting like fucking dick. Where will you be?
Sitting in the flames, all drunk on awe, mustard fucks
Never out of luck. Keeping calm, carrying on, little sup, fucking up. Wherе will you be?
Hypocrisy lol, corruption lol, fucking lol lol lol LOL
Where will you bе?
Feet up, ten pound an hour, the power
As your background friends scour
Billy big time stuffed full, Audi on tick with a boot full
Where will you be?
Big Christmas gut-full. A little bit thick...
And there's an angel on your shoulder that thinks you’re a prick
Where will you be?
Clutching that flag, dreaming of Empires and crowns
And fighting at the front in provincial fucking towns
Where will you be?
You’re saluting yourself, hailing the thief
Grinning with your rotten fucking meaty fucking teeth
Spiralling down, where will you be?
You’re fucking haywaining, clueless, rudderless, overdosed on your own stubbornness, where will you be?
Down in the street, drunk in the dirt, Facedown in the shit
Licking the boot, licking the dream
The arse kissing cat who got the dregs of the cream
WHERE WILL YOU BE WHERE WILL YOU BE WHERE WILL YOU BE
...Anarchy’s not what it used to be
You see? You see? YOU SEE?
WHERE WILL YOU BE?
Kitchen towelling the guts of a shitty past
Half-arsed. Half-hearted. Half-cut. We’re all fucked
Where will you be?
Suffocating in scandal, endlessly
Are you under the baton or gripping it?
Where’s your anger, where’s your rage, where’s your dignity?
Yet I get it
I’m the one I’m always complaining about
I’m the sheep, half asleep
Shouting along with those who agree with me
We need the ears of the fuckers that have blocked you and me
Where will you be?
It’s all too fucking twee. Where’s the good stuff?
He’s just doing his fucking best and you think that's enough
Where will you be?
Will we learn, will we ever fucking learn?
Where will you be when England burns?
WHEN ENGLAND BURNS
Where will you be?
Flames licking St George's heel
Itching the bones, fucking up your smartphones
The decking’s up in smoke
You’re a lifeless statistic, a reliable vote
You can’t see it. You can’t feel it. You’re done. You’re spent
You’re happy with your burnt out lot
You’re happy with all this trophy shit you’ve got
Are you best left to rot?
So fuck the lot. Fuck the lot. FUCK. THE. LOT
Where will you be? WHERE WILL YOU BE?
WHEN ENGLAND BURNS