Suddenly there's a knock at your head Don't let them in because they're trying to take your TV set Happiness is the ball in your hand You've got to try and throw this party just as far as you can
Creosote is pouring out of my brain I swear I heard the floorboards, they were creaking your name Get a room, get ahead, get a hat We're going to hell anyway, let's travel first class
Cut through the city on a Saturday night Watching the boys on their motorbikes I wanna be like those guys I wanna wear my clothes tight Matching jackets and a fistful of notes New sneakers and a fresh pack of smokes
Pnurothorax is a word that is long They're just trying to put some punk back into punctured lung Panic over, party off, party on Cause we are birds of a feather and you can be the fat one
Cut through the city on a Saturday night Over your heads like a satellite I wanna see what they see I wanna love you like crazy Cause camera are pointing right at your face Can see into your room from outer space
Cut through the city on a Saturday night It's not the size of the man in the fight I wanna know what that does I wanna show what matters Cause it's the size of the fight in the man That makes the difference and decides who is champ
Cut through the city on a Saturday night Cause you and me are we're on the edge of the knife
Cut through the city on a Saturday night I asked your mother and she said it's alright We're getting married when we're thirty Gonna do it on your birthday Cause I don't wanna waste a moment with you I just wanna live the whole night through
Cut through the city on a Saturday night Cause you and me we're on the edge of the knife
Compositores: Nicholas James David Hodgson, Nicholas Matthew Baines, James Simon Rix, Andrew Robert White (Andrew White), Charles Richard Wilson (Ricky Wilson) ECAD: Obra #2060347 Fonograma #1934289