IDLES - Never Fight a Man With a Perm lyrics
Joe Talbot, Mark Bowen, Adam Devonshire, Lee Kiernan, Jon Beavis [Bristol, UK]
[IDLES - Never Fight a Man With a Perm lyrics]
Brylcreem, Creatine
And a bag of Charlie Sheen
Brylcreem, Creatine and a bag of co-ca-ine
A dulcet man with a dulcet tone
From a dulcet town and a dulcet home
He hates me, I like that
Two arms like big baseball bats
I bark, he bites back
A jaw like a fuck-off bear trap
He said, "These boots are made for stomping
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna
Stomp all over you"
I said I've got a penchant for smokes
And kicking douches in the mouth
Sadly for you, my last cigarette's gone out
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
He thinks he's suave
You're not suave 'cause you
Watched Get Carter
You are a catalogue, plastic Sinatra
A tryhard who should've tried harder
Me, oh me, oh my, Roy
You look like a walking thyroid
You're not a man, you're a gland
You're one big neck with sausage hands
You are a Topshop tyrant
Even your haircut's violent
You look like you're from Love Island
He stood and the room went silent
Never fight a man with a perm!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
I'll shut my mouth let's hug it out
I'll shut my mouth let's hug it out
I'll shut my mouth i'll shut my mouth
And a bag of Charlie Sheen
Brylcreem, Creatine and a bag of co-ca-ine
A dulcet man with a dulcet tone
From a dulcet town and a dulcet home
He hates me, I like that
Two arms like big baseball bats
I bark, he bites back
A jaw like a fuck-off bear trap
He said, "These boots are made for stomping
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna
Stomp all over you"
I said I've got a penchant for smokes
And kicking douches in the mouth
Sadly for you, my last cigarette's gone out
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
He thinks he's suave
You're not suave 'cause you
Watched Get Carter
You are a catalogue, plastic Sinatra
A tryhard who should've tried harder
Me, oh me, oh my, Roy
You look like a walking thyroid
You're not a man, you're a gland
You're one big neck with sausage hands
You are a Topshop tyrant
Even your haircut's violent
You look like you're from Love Island
He stood and the room went silent
Never fight a man with a perm!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
Concrete to leather! Concrete to leather!
Concrete to leather! Concrete!
I'll shut my mouth let's hug it out
I'll shut my mouth let's hug it out
I'll shut my mouth i'll shut my mouth