On this glorious occasion.... of the splendid defeat. I wanna start from. Before the beginning. Loot wine "Be mine and. Then let's stay out for the night". Ride via Parkside. Semi-perilous lives. Jeer the lights in the windows. Of all safe and stable homes. (But wondering then well what. Could peace of mind be like ?). Anyway do you want to hear. Our story or not ?. As the Fulham Road lights. Stretch and invite into the night. From a Stevenage overspill. We'd kill to live around. Sw6 - with someone like you. Keep thieves' hours. With someone like you. ...As long as it slides. You stalk the house. In a low-cut blouse :. "Oh Christ another stifled. Friday night!". And the Fulham Road lights. Stretch and invite into the night. Well I was fifteen. What could I know ?. When the gulf between. All the things I need. And the things I receive. Is an ancient ocean. Wide wild lost uncrossed. Still I maintain there's nothing. Wrong with you. You do all that you do. Because it's all you can do. Well I was fifteen. Where could I go ?. With a soul full of loathing. For stinging bureaucracy. Making it anything. Other than easy. For working girls like me. With my hands on my head. I flop on your bed. With a head full of dread. For all I've ever said. Maladjusted maladjusted. Maladjusted maladjusted. Never to be trusted. Oh never to be trusted. There's nothing wrong with you oh. There's nothing wrong with you oh. There's nothing wrong with you oh. There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with you