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Sheila Nicholls
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Seven Fat Englishmen
Lyricist:James Harrah, Sheila Nicholls
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
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 Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com As you laugh with them, agree with them Make business with them 'cos this is your life
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
I have nowhere to take you And you have nowhere to go And I think it's just too painful for you To think there's any better
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