Knee Length Socks

(Check it out now)

Rushing out of Kings Cross station

Spilling to the glow of Darlinghurst Road

Underneath the Coke sign(?)

Hidden in the hip-folk

Right rhythm, white lights and the bouncers inviting me to strip shows

I was 17 with the face of 15

Carried my skateboard with me to the slipstream

You could be the king of the Cross or just sightseeing

Or take flight from the lime light like me

My brother ran a nightclub playing Hip-hop

In a club called Late Girls

Once upon a time it was owned by Abe Saffron

Long way from Oasis to the underworld

He would sneak me in before ten when the doors open

On the dance-floor dark and scared

And the bartender knew I wasn’t legal

But was pretending I wasn’t there

I was about to learn

These girls in knee length socks did not dance like I did

Did not dance indie, kid

Did not dance like me

In Fred Berry shirts these guys did not dance like I did

Did not dance Brit-pop, kid

(Check this out)

Did not dance like me

What ya, what ya, what ya want?

By 12 with the party proper kickin’

Room full of Alvins, Cockers and Frenchman(?)

‘Couple Liam Browns and they’re dancing to The Smiths

And there I am in the middle of the dance floor pissed

Showing off my running man

Shake it like Q-tip

And even apple-bottom

Like I was on some new shit

Proper etiquette

Hide it, shield it

But scream indelicate(?)

Don’t fight it, feel it

Indie girls dance like quirky little penguins

There she goes, fell in love and afraid to befriend him

I wish she could’ve told him that love swayed

Or the way she swung her hands by her sides like rollerblades

Could’ve put a British accent on

Pashed her in the chorus of a catchy song, yeah

With the charm of a trashy Pom,

I’m like: ‘Hello love wanna snog?’

These girls in knee length socks did not dance like I did

Did not dance indie, kid

Did not dance like me

In Fred Berry shirts these guys did not dance like I did

Did not dance Brit-pop, kid

Did not dance like me

So what ya, what ya, what ya want?

Grab my skateboard from the cloak room

Found Kings Cross with her legs wide open

What kind of trouble could a kid get his nose in

When the best of the * is * as part of Sydney blows in

I was never caught by the ‘fuzz’

When I was on a buzz

A bit before I dabbled with drugs

Pills, thrills, belly aches, * and *

Whatever it takes to medicate, please this week, uh

I did a bit I admit I wasn’t not innocent

I didn’t fit in but I felt magnificent

Banging in my eardrums differently

Like I got a new set of antennas for me there just to listen(?)

I look back, realise what it meant to me

Why I write hooks and melodies

I’m part of their legacy, but I never did get her next to me

I guess that was for the best

God damn

These girls in knee length socks did not dance like I did

Did not dance indie, kid

Did not dance like me

In Fred Berry shirts these guys did not dance like I did

Did not dance Brit-pop, kid

Did not dance like me

(So what ya, what ya, what ya want?)

These girls in knee length socks did not dance like I did

Did not dance indie, kid

Did not dance like me

In Fred Berry shirts these guys did not dance like I did

Did not dance Brit-pop, kid

Did not dance like me

(So what ya, what ya, what ya want?)