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lirik lagu dead! – the boys † the boys

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[hook]
(the boys, the boys!)

[verse 1]
he said “officer, can you help me please?
morning came quick, and my eyes sting”
came in here with his hands up
but you were quick to the draw, so shame on us
in an hours time, he’ll be all strung out
he’s out hanging around by the gambling house
no luck in the air or liquor on lips
he heads for old town, cashes in and quits

oh, he can feel the sun in his eyes
talks to strangers, but gets no replies
but his mouth just keeps on talking
and his legs, oh, they keep walking

[pre-chorus]
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s calling you
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s calling you
(the boys, the boys!)

[chorus]
screaming, “this isn’t me!”
kicking gl-ss all over the street
i’ll scream “this isn’t me”
from the grit between my t–th
this isn’t me, this isn’t me, this isn’t me
from the grit between my t–th

[verse 2]
they’ve all started work, his heads gone astray
he’s living way to fast for the middle of the day
friends way to nice for his own good
at least it wasn’t anything from him they took

oh, he can hear them loud and clear
these words couldn’t fall on more receptive ears
he can hear them loud and clear
can you hear them?
can you hear them?
(loud and f-cking clear!)

[pre-chorus]
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s calling you
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s calling you
(the boys, the boys!)

[chorus]
screaming, “this isn’t me!”
kicking gl-ss all over the street
i’ll scream “this isn’t me”
from the grit between my t–th
this isn’t me, this isn’t me, this isn’t me
from the grit between my t–th
the grit between my t–th

[bridge]
reluctant to admit that i have switched sides
he says i should go home, but i’m alright, but i’m alright
reluctant to admit that i have switched sides
he says i should go home, but i’m alright, but i’m alright

[pre-chorus]
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s coming for you
and he’s on the phone now
and he’s coming for you
(the boys, the boys!)

[chorus:]
screaming, “this isn’t me!”
kicking gl-ss all over the street
i’ll scream “this isn’t me”
from the grit between my t–th
this isn’t me, this isn’t me, this isn’t me
from the grit between my t–th
the grit between my t–th


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