You act a pansy, pushover
Do live your fancy, go lower
Who is that, something says your name
You seem chancy, moreover
The call is mine
Im gonna get you up
Im wanna get on top
(Repeat)
On the skew, youre dancing all over
You are the anti-fashion statement
In a blue suit, orange pullover
You look like my old dog Rover
The call is mine
Im gonna get you up
Im wanna get on top
(Repeat)
Head crash - I cant see you
Spit teeth - I can hear you
I feel your pounding me onto the street
Ive learned to know the taste of concrete
Why dont you follow me?
Street brash - time flies, tick-tock
Eyes flash - feels like electroshock
I feel the blood gushing, crumbling away
I know this marks the end of my hey-day
Why dont you follow me?

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