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letra de the boy - jamie webster

the boy he doesn’t like this time of day
the phone it rings for him to feed his pray
he knows no other way than a sugar man and he’s tired
scared by all the things he’s seen and done
mummy was a drunk, daddy on the run
no one to teach him to share, n0body there

so he could feel some love, not a push or shove
as a kid he’d lay there shaking in his room up above
thinking, “why’s my life so strange?”
lying there wishing that his world could change

and then he answers the phone ’cause it keeps on ringing
someone tells him where to go and what to bring in
a backstreet rave that smells proper minging
with all these gozzy students singing that song
won’t be long ’til his bills need paying
his eyes are heavy and his hair’s greying
tries his own supply he mixes day out day in
and now the dj’s playing that f-cking song
la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la
he gives himself some more affection
and further loses direction of right and wrong

the boy he doesn’t like this time of night
he’s dizzy and his pocket’s feeling light
it’s the uphill fight of a sugar man and he’s tired
tired of feeling like he’s choking
and all the weed he’s smoking in his shed
if only in his head so when he goes to bed
the boy can feel some love, not a push or shove
all those years laying shaking in his room up above
thinking, “why’s my life so strange?”
lying there wishing that his world could change

and then he answers the phone ’cause it keeps on ringing
someone tells him where to go and what to bring in
a backstreet rave that smells proper minging
with all these gozzy students singing that song
won’t be long ’til his bills need paying
his eyes are heavy and his hair’s greying
tries his own supply he mixes day out day in
and still the dj’s playing that f-cking song
la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la
and before long he gives himself some more affection
and further loses direction of right and wrong

answers the phone ’cause it keeps on ringing
someone tells him where to go and what to bring in
a backstreet rave that smells proper minging
with all these gozzy students singing that song
won’t be long ’til his bills need paying
his eyes are heavy and his hair’s greying
tries his own supply he mixes day out day in
and still the dj’s playing that f-cking song
la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la
and before long he gives himself some more affection
’cause no one’s ever shown him a way to be strong

- jamie webster

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