A lot of nine fingered boys in the village
They haven’t got much choice in the village
Model car, model wife, model village
Model far, model right, model village
They ain’t too friendly in the village
There’s a tabloid frenzy in the village
He’s “not a racist but” in the village
Gotta drive half-cut in the village
Model low crime rate in the village
Model race, model hate, model village
Got my head kicked in in the village
There’s a lot of pink skin in the village
“Hardest man in the world” in the village
He says he’s got with every girl in the village
Take flight, take flight
Model village
I beg your pardon
I don’t care about your rose garden
I’ve listened to the things you said
You just sound like you’re scared to death
Still not in love with the village
Homophobes by the tonne in the village
A lot of overpriced drugs in the village
A lot of half pint thugs in the village
Model car, model wife, model village
Model far, model right, model village
I see a lot of gammon in the village
I don’t see a lot happen in the village
Just give them an anthem and they’ll sing it
Still they don’t know the meanings in it
Just saluting flags ‘cause it’s British
Idiot spirits think they’re kindred
Model low crime rate in the village
Model race, model hate, model village
It feels like the village is self-pillaged
Still someone’s making a killing
Take flight, take flight
Take flight
Model village
I beg your pardon
I don’t care about your rose garden
I’ve listened to the things you said
You just sound like your scared to death
I beg your pardon
I don’t care about your rose garden
I’ve listened to the things you said
You just sound like you’re scared to death
You gotta laugh as the curtain twitches
And the villagers bury their riches
But the village doesn’t know what rich is
Just snitches snitching on snitches
Only one thing to do in the village
Just say toodle-do to the village
Toodle-fucking-do
Big, round eyes
Like a child, with a magic to match
Show a shoulder, naked skin on the side
Like a crack in a door on a latch
Hot little hints
Toe a line between sexy and sick
What’s the deal? How much to feel?
Will you think of me differently?
Drawing the blinds, thinking of you
Poor lonely mind, it’s getting confused
Will you ever lie next to me
In the bed that I dream of us in?
Rewire a dread, this whirring machine
If you can’t, cool it down
Steam is still steam
Will you ever know of this image of you
That can soothe me to sleep?
What in the world
Do we have at a quarter to four?
Such a still, but so real
Disconnected, but beautifully raw
So ask me again
In a suit and a tie, with a drink
Then find outright in half light
And you’ll think of me differently
Drawing the blinds, thinking of you
Poor lonely mind, it’s getting confused
Will you ever lie next to me
In the bed that I dream of us in?
Rewire a dread, this whirring machine
If you can’t, cool it down
Steam is still steam
Will you ever know of this image of you
That can soothe me to sleep?