Future of the Left
No Son Will Ease Their Solitude
My pony trek has gone too far
I started in stoke and woke in Myanmar
It must have been that second drink
I swear it was endless it turned into a fifteenth
And then the sensation of dying young took over
No son
No son
No son
No son
My bank account is not a hole
It has no real purpose and a hole has one
I'd sooner just unlearn the word
I'm serious the knowledge that holidays existed
Did not hurt, did not burn, only brought a fresh perspective
Did you want to be in the military all along?
Did you want to be in the military all along?
Did you want to be in the military all along?
Did you want to be in the military all along?
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
Surrender in a minute har har har
Surrender in a minute in a minute innit
No son will ease their solitude
No son, no son