No christmas for john quaysCome on get a bit of fucking guts into itWhat whatWell the powders reach youAnd the powders teach youBut when you find they can’t reach youThere is no christmas for junkyHe thinks he isMore interestingThan the worldAh but buying fagsPuts him in a whirlI’ll have a packet of three-five fivesWill you fucking put the monitors on for christ’s sake? I’ll have a packet of three-five fivesI’ll have 20 of those over thereI’ll have 20 no.6 for a headacheAnd I’ve had enough right there, stop(why is this)Ah ah ah ah ahHe spits in the skyIt falls in his eyeAnd then he gets to sittingTalking to his kittenTalking about frankie lymonTell me why is it so? Tell me why is it so? Why did the sky break today? Why did this happen today? He goes out of his face with the idle raceHe goes out of the room with this tuneAlthough the skins are thinHe knows it’s up to himTo go out or stay inI’ll stay inI’ll stay inHave a breakYouMeX-masX-masWell the powders reach youAnd the powders teach youBut when you find they can’t reach youThere is no christmas for junkyThere is no girlsThere is no curlsJust the traffic passing byBye bye bye bye bye bye bye byeOpen the room, there’s a cloud of smokeWill you fucking get it together instead of showing off? Give me oneGive me bGive me threeGive me dNo x-mas for john quays
