Template:Pretty Words

I ask you nicely

Get my face slapped under wraps

What's going on precisely

Is there something wrong perhaps?

Surprise, surprise (surprise, surprise)

It's more like a booby trap than a booby prize

Civil disobedience from a soldier with a dirty rifle

You're loosening all the screws that hold the hinges of my life

Fat cats and army brats

Hep cats and dog tags pawing over girly mags

Pretty words don't mean much anymore

I don't mean to be mean much anymore

All I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spots

Mug shots, machine slots

Till you don't know what's what

You don't know what you got

Curious women running after curious men

Curiosity didn't kill the cat

It was a poisoned pen

But there's not much choice (it's Hobson's choice)

Between a cruel mouth and a jealous voice

Got back to London

Picked a paper from the mat

No words of consolation

Just cartoons and chitter chatter

Well well, fancy that

Millions murdered for a kiss me quick hat

No backbone, blood and guts

Better keep your big mouth shut

Pretty words don't mean much anymore

I don't mean to be mean much anymore

All I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spots

Machine slots, mug shots

Till you don't know what's what

You don't know what you got