Number 24

Number 24-Polly Scattergood

Honesty is killing me

I feel you burning holes in me

And ripping open threads like I'm some

Big enchanting crossword

And I know I have to get back up

But when I cry I cry a lot

And nothing much is going on

The poet and the vicars son

And so maybe next time

Likely never

So strip the whips

And you can burn that leather

And you can paint the keys sir

Hide the door

Because it's pretty damn quiet

At number twenty-four

And I live in a bedsit in the south

So bite my nails and tape my mouth

And pretend life life's so f**king sickly sweet

You've got these bitter eyes you've got these rotting teeth

F**ke me up sir fade away

Give me my own polly day

And clean my boots or suck my toes

And pretend like nobody knows

And I'm OK I'm OK

You're just fine

And one day we might have a good day

But maybe next time likely never

So strip the whips and you can burn that leather

You can paint the keys sir hide the door

Because it's pretty damn quiet

At number twenty-four

And I live in a bedsit in the south

So bite my nails and tape my mouth

And pretend life life's so f**king sickly sweet

You've got these bitter eyes

You've got these rotting teeth

If I was still seventeen if I was twice as nice

If you were half as mean then I might give you a second chance

To feel the way it maybe should have been

Throw me a lead f**k my cherry

Say your love is dead and buried

And find a blonde that one looks a bit like me

Maybe this time you just might get it

But then maybe next time likely never

So you can strip the whips and you can burn that leather

And you can paint the keys sir hide the door

Because it's pretty damn quiet

At number twenty-four

And I live in a bedsit in the south

So bite my nails and tape my mouth

And pretend life life's so f**king sickly sweet

You've got these bitter eyes you've got these rotting teeth