she takes her clothes off
for fifty quid
donÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you touch her
sheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's my best friend
theyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ're dropping babies on their heads
they told my mother she was dead
and she had nothing to say
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming
For you
Hide away
The big boys in the pictures
With the photographs
TheyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll teach you how to live
And how to love and how to laugh
Her head explodes
When you talk to her
Shake her hand
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't shake her
SheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's picking pieces
Of her life up off the floor
Why the bruises why the bruises
She keeps hitting closed doors
And then she kisses the floors
Whisper nothing whisper nothing
Whisper nothing to her
She canÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't even hear
Get out stay out
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you ever touch her
Or IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll kill you my friend
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming
My Red Cell - Fifty Quid Lyrics
My Red Cell - Fifty Quid Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
she takes her clothes off
for fifty quid
donÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you touch her
sheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's my best friend
theyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ're dropping babies on their heads
they told my mother she was dead
and she had nothing to say
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming
For you
Hide away
The big boys in the pictures
With the photographs
TheyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll teach you how to live
And how to love and how to laugh
Her head explodes
When you talk to her
Shake her hand
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't shake her
SheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's picking pieces
Of her life up off the floor
Why the bruises why the bruises
She keeps hitting closed doors
And then she kisses the floors
Whisper nothing whisper nothing
Whisper nothing to her
She canÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't even hear
Get out stay out
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you ever touch her
Or IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll kill you my friend
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming
for fifty quid
donÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you touch her
sheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's my best friend
theyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ're dropping babies on their heads
they told my mother she was dead
and she had nothing to say
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming
For you
Hide away
The big boys in the pictures
With the photographs
TheyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll teach you how to live
And how to love and how to laugh
Her head explodes
When you talk to her
Shake her hand
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't shake her
SheÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ's picking pieces
Of her life up off the floor
Why the bruises why the bruises
She keeps hitting closed doors
And then she kisses the floors
Whisper nothing whisper nothing
Whisper nothing to her
She canÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't even hear
Get out stay out
DonÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ't you ever touch her
Or IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'll kill you my friend
IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ'm coming