| Razor tea-cups and tip top craic |
| of the crooked, Backstreet Lovers and sons |
| Lawless law men walk the streets of |
| Dirty meadows of foul mouthed mothers and guns |
| Brick blacked-up kids mugged me the day I |
| ran off with your sister |
| a young school maid, caught up in a world of |
| Backstreet Lovers. |
| Lovers and sons, I waved her away to a friend |
| at least that’s what she said. |
| Rotting teeth of a grubby gran |
| fill the alleys of the stolen roll-ups and blunts |
| a skin-head dad came cap in hand |
| with a duster and flash of switch blade fun |
| still on the dole, though the picket was broken |
| a soiled age ago. |
| But he’s caught up, caught up in a world of |
| Lovers and sons, I waved her away to a friend |
| at least that’s what she said |
| Tangled in the roots and tangled in the weeds |
| of a concrete jungle came that girl from Leeds |
| in torn dress and tights, |
| she ain’t no slag. |
| i won her over with a '40 bag. |
| I waved her away to a friend |
| at least that’s what she said |
| Razor tea-cups and tip top craic |
| of the crooked, Backstreet Lovers and sons |
| Lawless law men walk the streets of |
| Dirty meadows of foul mouthed mothers and guns |
| Brick blacked-up kids mugged me the day I |
| ran off with your sister |
| a young school maid, caught up in a world of |
| Backstreet Lovers. |
| Lovers and sons, I waved her away to a friend |
| at least that’s what she said. |
| Rotting teeth of a grubby gran |
| fill the alleys of the stolen roll-ups and blunts |
| a skin-head dad came cap in hand |
| with a duster and flash of switch blade fun |
| still on the dole, though the picket was broken |
| a soiled age ago. |
| But he’s caught up, caught up in a world of |
| Lovers and sons. |