Oh clandestine

You keep it on

Fill in the cracks

In your bedroom wall

Petrified

Crucified in bronze and gold

An old tired lie

Of forgiveness bought and sold

Vaporised

And tax share exempt

A lovechild

Of confusion and despair

Made them pay

Made a call

Made that shame

They loathe a home

What’s the point in whining all the time?

I feel fine

You've got your problems misaligned

And i've got mine

So stick them where the sun don't shine...

I feel fine, i feel fine

I feel finе, i feel fine