The Likeness Of Being

Lost in this skin, go witherin' down
Half-past seven on my upside down
Don't know where I'm going, don't know where I've been
Just know where I'm moving, gotta go it again
Lost on your estate, don't know how
Leaving here, gotta get out now
Lost in this place, don't know now
Leaving soon, but I love you now

Police out lookin' for a blonde-haired woman
She's five-foot-five, last seen alive
By the Southern Fried Chicken on the High Street, bookin'
A cab from a man that you can't describe
Her friends scream: Rape!, police, they flash by
Holdin' everybody up, but it's over now
Found a tossed soul in an old suitcase
And a head floatin' high in the old canal

She says, I know you feel the rage
In the calibre of the cage
It makes you turn away
But I love you anyway

Yeah, April 23rd where the boys all look
St George's Day, pray it don't get much worse
And the young ones listen to the elders' words
And they rile them all up screamin': Britain's First!
Lean in slow, say: It ain't my bag
So they call you a faggot and they push you back
They go out late night on the attack
And they beat a Tali-man with a baseball bat

She says, I know you feel the rage
In the calibre of the cage
It makes you walk away
And I love you anyway
She says, I know you feel the rage
In the calibre of the cage
It made you walk away
And I love you anyway

Friends all say you're a coward now
And they make you sniff alone in the King and Cow
Never seen a girl with so much grace
She walked right by with a smile on her face
Said, I'll be your friend whether using or not
It's a fine line but it's all I got
Wrapped in the cage, speak, pick up
And then you hold influence 'til the sun comes up