Lyrics
Running off over next door's garden before the hour is done
It's more a question of feeling than it is a question of fun
The confidence is the balaclava, I'm sure you'll baffle 'em good
Will the ending reek of salty cheeks and runny makeup alone?
Or will blood run down the face of a boy bewildered and scorned?
And you'll find yourself in a skirmish where you wish you'd never been born
You tie yourself to the tracks, and there isn't no going back
And it's wrong, wrong, wrong, but we'll do it anyway 'cause we love a bit of trouble
Are you pulling her from a burning building or throwing her to the sharks?
Can only hope that the ending is as pleasurable as the start
The confidence is the balaclava, I'm sure you'll baffle 'em straight
And it's wrong, wrong, wrong, but she can hardly wait
That's right, he won't let her out his sight
Now the shaggers perform, and the daggers are drawn
Who's the crooks in this crime?
That's right, he won't let her out his sight
Now the shaggers perform, and the daggers are drawn
Who's the crooks in this crime?
That's right, he won't let her out his sight
That's right, he won't let her out his sight
That's right, he won't let her out his sight
Will you be able to boast of the day of the most flawless heist of all time?
You knew that it'd be trouble right before the very first kiss
Quiet and unassuming, but you heard that they were the naughtiest
She pleaded with you to take it off, but you resisted and fought
But sorry, sweetheart, I'd much rather keep on the balaclava
