Seleccione el idioma para traducir esta letra
The pub talk, the scandals
Like vandals they try to tear you down
The whispers, turn rumours
There's no truth but that don't stop those cats
They need the little bit extra
They don't mind if it's only conjecture
They tried to tell me I wasn't full time
I tried to think of an alibi
I felt so awful I spat in their faces and ran for my life
They need that little bit extra
They don't mind if it's only conjecture
They tried to tell me their's was the right way
I tried to shout that was a lie
I felt so sick I spat in their lifestyles with a runaway pride
Untouched by unhuman hands
'Cause only God knows I don't call that a man
Who spends his waking days
Telling others what to think and what to say
They tried to tell me I wasn't normal
I tried to shout there's no such thing
I felt so sick I spat on their lifestyles with a runaway pride
So catch me if you can
'Cause I would rather be dead than live like that
Hey, hey, hey
- Álbum:
- Miscellaneous
- Café Bleu
- Home & Abroad
- The Singular Adventures of the Style Council
- 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection: The...
- In Concert
- Now That’s What I Call Music! 1984
- The Style Council: Greatest Hits
- 12″/80s Classics
- 12" 80s Classics
- 12" 80s Classics (International Version)
- The Complete Adventures Of The Style Council
- Greatest Hits
- The Cost of Loving
- 20th Century Masters: The Millennium Collection: The Best...
- 87 Hits Out
- Hit Collection, Volume 2
- Master Series
- Gold
- Hit Parade