I can't find a stand to take to or from the road to ruin
Sure I've got the sense to make a record of my own undoing
I should like to mention, a friend or some relation
I can throw you farther, then you can trust me, son

I go back from time to time to indeces and empty schools
All now are dull sublime, all were then my golden rules
But you know I'm lying, I'm just sick and tired of trying
You could throw a party and maybe I'll be there

Get me out of here
Let me show you my arms

I prefer the water's edge, seven locks and three cliffs bay
No allegiance left to pledge more than that I could say
I was never better, life before the letter
They can throw me comfort crumbs but they can't bake the cake

Get me out of here
Let me show you my arms

Get me out of here
Let me show you my arms

Get me out of here
Let me show you my arms
...

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Green Gartside