Drink Nike

Right in the centre of Hove,

Next to an escalator,

Someone has hidden a bomb

Underneath a plastic chair

But he can't put his finger on it:

He'll never be that kind of man.

He'll die in his bed on a summer's night

With his hand on his favourite thing.

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Maybe it's a natural phase,

Comedy has taken its toll.

No-one is totally lost,

Nobody is out of control.

There are words he could use to describe it,

Metaphors he should have applied.

He'll die in his bed on a summer's night

With his hands on his adequate bride.

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile!

Smile!

Smile, we're waiting for it.

Smile, we're waiting for

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Those kids, I swear, drink Nike, yes.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.

Smile-alalalalalalalalalalala.