Seven Fat Englishmen

Verse 1Seven fat Englishmen sit around you on bar stoolsBlood red faces unaware that they're dying fast,And as this blood squeezes through their blocked arteriesThese farming men, drinking gin, pickling their liversIt's normal hereChorusAnd I reach into this circleTo fetch you outand I reach into this circle to fetch you out of this sticky mess of gin andblood and soil but you can't leave,gin and blood and soil but you can't leave.And as the spice girls prostitute girl power in the backgroundOn tinny speakers you smile and desperation seeps through your teethas you laugh with themAgree with them, make business with themCos this is you're lifeVerse 1I have nowhere to take you and you have nowhere to go an I think its just toopainful for you to think there's any better