The Cribs
Shoot the Poets
Cut off your nose to spite your friends
Breathing holes that will never end and
Speak all you want or just pretend
Because she think she is a different class
So she sits all day by the looking glass
It doesn't talk, it doesn't last

But it's not what I've heard you know
A picture speaks a thousand words
But baby don't feel down
I left my heart in a provincial town

You sold your souls for magic beans
Don't believe all you read on computer screens
These things they mean nothing to me
Ripped and stained, came off the track
You go there once and you don't come back
"Good, that's what I say..."

But it's not what I've heard you know it
Cut your losses, shoot the poets
And one day you'll come down
To find yourself in a provincial town