I checked the time – it was almost time;
A curious smell, an intangible crime.
I’m washing my clothes, but the stain still grows,
Cover your eyes, the stain still shows.

I feel the graze against my skin,
I feel the graze against my skin;
I know this feeling is a lie,
I know this feeling is a lie.

There’s a guilt within my mind,
There is a guilt within my mind;
I know this feeling is a lie,
I know this feeling is a lie.

I don’t need this pressure on…

Oh, I should question not ignore,
Oh, I should question not ignore;
Songs are always buried deep,
Songs are always buried deep.

There’s a lion in my arms,
There is motion in my arms;
Oh, I should question not ignore,
I should believe and not ignore.

I don’t need this pressure on…

You go down, down,
Pass the Talk of the Town;
You go down Greek Street
Then it’s underground.
Well it’s Soho life
For this mobile knife;
It’s the place to shoot –
Friday night Beat Route.