I met you four months last Sunday,

My oh my what a happy, clappy fun day.

We started off as jobs in catering,

Had no idea of the pain this cheap pay could bring.



Now that your tickle has become a scratch,

This ghost train will derail and crash.

Like Blackpool's Pepsi Max,

We will derail and crash, derail and crash.



You moved my wardrobe out the front door,

A slight indication of what I've come home, what I'm in for.

You were watching Tarantino loud on widescreen,

I catch your eye and the barrel points at me.



Looks like your tickle has become a scratch,

This ghost train will derail and crash.

Like Blackpool's Pepsi Max,

We will derail and crash, derail and crash.



Derail and crash (x4)