Alba s touto skladbou:
Fishing For Luckies II.,
Ah yes, it's just like the time
Back in '89
They said "you'll be fine"
Just suck a little dick!
And the standards are fine, I want more
Gonna open the bargains in store
Why the hell did they wanna sign me?
I'm a liability
Goodbye EastWest,
God bless The Wildhearts!
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn
Oh no, it's that time again
When you realise, just a bit too late...
(Sounds familiar)
And we do what we said we would do
And we proved we were better than you
Now you pick out the fence from your arse
And you dream of pop stars
In our souls we trusted...
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn, in out in, in like Flynn
In like Flynn, in out in
In like Flynn
"…and apart from spending a day on the streets, he could expect his greeting answered by a barrage of curses, for no apparent reason at all. Two men were utterly fascinated, completely enthralled by the language, and that was the remarkable fact considering that Mr. Sweet was admired by practically nobody else for Mr. Sweet was anything but sweet, and thus the world came to love a grumpy old man… They were insufficiently glorious either to redeem their author or to mitigate the self-destructive side effects of his… his poisonous personality. But guess what? Once upon a time there was a bitter man named Sweet. Perhaps the greatest philologist and phonetician: the greatest language expert in the world… For weeks thereafter, Georgie walked about in an idolatrous daze, the brilliant but sour Mr. Sweet died of pernicious anaemia, the misanthropic scholar had to enjoy his new-found admiration, from his grave."
