Songtext Me white nose Blur

Me white nose

Oi, You're a little mug ya little tart, No education, Everybody comes in and out the room, They're out the room, they're in the room, they're out, That's right, no-one's hurt, You know they're not comin' in with a pair of marraccas are they? Doin' a fuckin' bit of marracca and stuff, Like, you know what I mean, Don't ya, you know, you know well what I mean, But I ain't moaning about it or complainig about it or anything like that, 'Cos like that's what it is you know, you know and you kick a football, You kick a football, everybody kicks a football, I don't wanna rant and rave, yeah alright, at all, fair enough innit, Fair enough, And like you're going like "Sorry, sorry mate," You know you get down now, and you look at the wall, And what does the wall say to ya? I ain't a mirror, fuck off, That's the way it goes, It's true though innità Think about it, Don't stall man, I've got houses to build.
And then you move, move, move, move, And you push, push, push, push, And you trip over yourself and you think to yourself, Why am I here? I'm here because I've got no fucking choice, And furthermore, Furthermore, You're boring.
(x6) Can we stop now? (x5) Please Don't even know you're innocent, Mmm, 'Salright.
And there's a lot of snides out there, Wanting to have a little pop at your life, But they're wrong, Nah, they're just nasty, You know, I've lived all my friggin life, right, trying to do it right, And like, it's impossible, I've got a gun you know, and I'd use it, I wouldn't, I wouldn't, ah, I wouldn't I can't get it out you know, What I mean, if I got a gun, I would use it, But maybe I would, but maybe I wouldn't, But this is it man, this ain't America for fuck's sake, All I wanna know is how people get in and I want them to get on, But I don't want everyone blowing each other off, If I had a bomb, I wouldn't blow up no-one up, That's the way I feel, you know on the underground train, You get on an underground train, You get on an underground train, Off you go, Zhoom, you're in HolbornBosh, you're in Covent Garden, Bosh, you get out, everybody's alright, Everybody's alright, No-one does that much to each other.
And then you move, move, move, move, And you push, push, push, push, And you trip over yourself and you think to yourself, Why am I here? I'm here because I've got no fucking choice, And furthermore, Furthermore, You're boring.
(x6) It's Me, White Noise, Me, White Noise, Me, White Noise, Me, White Noise, Me, White Noise, Understand?