Songtext Spare ribs Sleaford Mods

Spare ribs

Swishing past shoes, I got bedtime. Won't go to bed blues

Swishing past shoes, I got bedtime. Won't go to bed blues
The tragedy of life
Of ways that won't change, too late
Screaming kids and no landscape
Tesla, Elon Musk's orgies are better
No tester, taunting us in tweets with a face that looks like beef
One time for the Lord, my arse
Limping, carrying tubs of water drinking

Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice
Outside
Under a concrete Jesus Christ
Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice

What goes on there out of sightà
No lampshades, no lights
I picture my kids in life
These routes, Fruit Shoots
Soft start kits, beaten lumps of flesh outside the supermarkets
Banana milkshakes, toffee lattes
Give him what he wants, he's fucked
Ski jackets, sleeping bags get took
Where the bench was, break the wind at 4am
In the bus stop

Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice
Outside
Under a concrete Jesus Christ
Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice

Going on about Aphex Twin
Spanish Anarchists
You don't know anything
What happened to ya?
Lager and linen, bullshitter, because you actually hate women, don't ya?
Running for them words
Political song competition, I win!
You're faster, angrier, more political
Jargon fight, clever insight
Tick boxes tick. Tick all that shit

Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice
Outside
Under a concrete Jesus Christ
Outside
Spare ribs do bits of spice

You go down, you do nothing
You go up, you do something
You go down, you do nothing
You go up, you do something

Oh fuck off