Lots of sun for you young boy
Lots of sun for you today
Subsidise the opera forget coal
Sit around in the London smog

Cappuccino's amongst the fumes
Breathe it in and down the gym
Yes I'm on a witch hunt now
And paracetamol my only drug

You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone
When it's gone

No sun for you young boy
It will hurt your lily-white skin
Don't think it will hurt your mind
We'll be the ones who give you soul

Close enough to fill those holes
This tenderness slipping through my fingers
Sandy sandy feet - ice cream to sleep
No more feelings that you can feel

You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone

When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
When it's gone
Gone

You've got some black holes for the young
You won't feel it when it's gone
You've got some black holes for the young
You won't know when it's gone
When it's gone


Valley Boy

Here I am in Amsterdam
I like it here they speak my language
Even though it's not my own
It's got BBC for comfort zone
But best of all it's got Marks & Spencers
Equality for the masses never felt better

And some of my dreams
They may have come true
But so have my nightmares
Which I can't get through

And now I've lost the power to speak
And now I've lost the power to eat
Idle and out of touch in Europe

Nothing's gone and nothing's changed
All that was before will still remain
It's too late to learn a new currency

And some of my dreams
They may have come true
But so have my nightmares
Which I can't get through


Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky (Nynex 1997)

You have your very own number
They dress your cage in its nature
Once you roared now you just grunt lame
Pace around pathetic pound games

Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick
For the outside,
The small black flowers that grow in the sky

They drag sticks along your walls
Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl
Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elder
Environment not yours you see through it all

Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick
For the outside,
The small black flowers that grow in the sky

Here chewing your tail is joy