Seven Fat Englishmen

Verse 1 Seven fat Englishmen sit around you on bar stools Blood red faces unaware that they're dying fast, And as this blood squeezes through their blocked arteries These farming men, drinking gin, pickling their livers It's normal here Chorus And I reach into this circle To fetch you out and I reach into this circle to fetch you out of this sticky mess of gin and blood and soil but you can't leave, gin and blood and soil but you can't leave. And as the spice girls prostitute girl power in the background On tinny speakers you smile and desperation seeps through your teeth as you laugh with them Agree with them, make business with them Cos this is you're life Verse 1 I have nowhere to take you and you have nowhere to go an I think its just too painful for you to think there's any better