Carlton Touts - Sleaford Mods

Why they got tellies in pubs?

Keep us munched on second-hand grub

Second-hand tales, I’m fired up

Two pints for a fiver, crook

What’s me: am I a tortoise or a cuddly bear?

When life isn’t anything 'til you start drinkin' there

No truths, just a selection of memories in bars you knew

I’m glad I was born when I was

I get to see the right once again look like knobs

Like what?

It’s not hard is it, you token chop

Freeze-wrapped, nine for a quid in Bejams, the lot

Royal Dutch lines

You fat bastard

You English crimes

You fat bastards

You fat bastards

You fat bastards

You fat bastards

Carlton touts

The angel of the midlands has flown away

Probably south

You can’t blame her

When the future is a flag pissed on

And a king-sized bag of quavers

Carlton touts

The angel of the midlands has flown away

Probably south

You can’t blame her

When the future is a flag pissed on

And a king-sized bag of quavers

I stroke a roll-up outside

Tryin' to put a memory to the face that has just said «hi»

Clouds are low, like the general mood

Tempers cookin' up from the inside

We are the microwaved food

And I’m not in the mood

The Labour Party is a three-quid tube of vending machine smarties

At the airport, where check-in could be check-out

What the fuck is happ’nin'?

Bring back the neolibs, I’m sorry

I didn’t fuckin' mean to pray for anarchy

They’re all gaggin' for a bit o' fame

So of course they’re fuckin' off

You don’t become a toff by going against the toff

Where’s the anti-toff?

We ain’t got none

Have you recognised the needle in your own arm, cunt?

I have, but so what?

You can’t beam me up, I’m not Captain Spock

You can’t sell me stuff on the rotten rock

I’ve got a store-card, bastard

I’m this months Top Shop

Carlton touts

The angel of the midlands has flown away

Probably south

You can’t blame her

When the future is a flag pissed on

And a king-sized bag of quavers

Carlton touts

The angel of the midlands has flown away

Probably south

You can’t blame her

When the future is a flag pissed on

And a king-sized bag of quavers

Carlton touts

Carlton touts

Carlton touts

Carlton touts