Jam Baxter - 28 Staples lyrics

Found one bullet that can penetrate angels
Looking straight down at these 28 staples
See my age like a semi-buff unhinged bitch
In denial that could never stay faithful
Got the wench in bed with my past with the
Rave crew bright eyes drenched in the dark
They were spewing out chewed up news
From a few years back, can you hear that?
(Bruv, where the beer at?)
Seventeen teenage kicks to
The cranium foot-long
Wound full of tough titanium
Snapped arm swinging in the Mediterranean
Steps to developing the flesh of an alien
The perils of a rock-star spread
With his brains ripped out
When the flames lick round the horizon
The shock set the sea alight freeing
Every demon I see at night
Skipping on a wave of excitement
It's strange rip every plug from the mains
Excuse my excuses delusional thoughts mix
Well with the numbness
A cocktail best served dashed in the drain
So retreat, tie up the noose with your teeth
Leap from the black and blue
World at your feet
See 'em swing see 'em twitch
I was busy banging chicks getting
Fucked with the freaks
And just when you think
You surpassed mortality
Master of all in a cardboard galaxy
The last black hole threw my
Passport back at me
A border control handcuffed to reality
Bleep bleep, shackle him
Old men in hospital gowns stammering
It just takes one gallon of paraffin
To burn a whole planet
Of inanimate mannequins and either
I'll strike the match for you and back
Away a diamond encrusted creature or
We can all morph into plastic
In shop front displays
At the rave at the front left speaker
A second rate jesus with
Scarlet fever turns old
Single malt to bacardi breezer on the corner
And talks with a dark
Demeanor about that regression eureka

Summertime and the living was simple
Uncut Bolivian and hideous crystal
Star prize for the millionth ring-pull
If it's gone too far give me a signal
Taking care of yourself is a mugs game freeze
In excitement and melt in the mundane
I'll be right here
Trippin' out bobbing up and down
Ripping out limbs and I
Wouldn't make one change well, well, well
I might make one shit
Stick around for the ice-age son, son
Slip a bright tin on a soul-snapping par
Yeah, shit
But never pick at that volcanic scar
Stepping in a parallel dimension
Filled full of maggots and
Their paranoid henchmen
An awkward exchanges by collard up cracks an
Amputee geeks at the grim-out convention
Spill out the bedroom, tramp in a
Slut-suit swing for your outline
Rape your reflection
A pig headed chef force feeds an infection
A stump-toothed child with
A six-figure pension cue for the cheque
The wrinkles on the rips
Never suited my flesh
I was stretched on a next front
Page of the rocket fuel catalogue
Smashed mirrors glued to my chest, high-v
Still grimey, slumped in the stocks
Funny how we all must've shrunk in the wash
But could never stay clean, forever eighteen
Take 28 reasons to renovate, scream