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The Fatima Mansions
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Angel's Delight
A necklace of rubber, burning bright
A burning rubber necklace for my angel's delight
A holiday in a box, opportunity knocks
For the rich man's militia photographing my block
Kill a cop. why the hell not?
Yeah!! burn, motherfucker, burn!
I got a word for you: dead
Got a trampoline--your fuckin' head
You roll down my street in your gleaming new car
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I've got no secrets, cash or time left to give you
But i've got something else for you, my friend
A crack in the restless night, a broken bone on the pavement
Angel's delight was a recurring statement
Burn a bailiff--spill, don't save it
Yeah!! burn, motherfucker, burn!
Run, run, run, run!
You can have what you ask, but not in cash
[with a?]credit card, a payment slashed
You can put it where your mouth used to be
You can put it where your dick used to be
You can [...?]looking at me, looking at you
[...?]blacklist, [...?]blacklist
What do you do when words collapse
And all that's left is broken glass?
I know, i know i'm trapped
I've got a holiday in a big oak box
With my friend, the famous pc plod, plod, plod*
Kill a cop, kill a cop,
You lay a hand on me, i'm gonna kill you, cop.
Hey! let's all kill some cops.
Some bailiffs.
Assholes.
* 'pc plod' is a well known and derogatory name for a british beat cop. it's capitalized, like 'john q. public.'
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