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