Lyrics
We're here to help
Catching canaries is all part of the job
Those of you who are way ahead of me
Could say something about a bird in the hand
being worth two in the bathroom or something
She's grateful, of course, very grateful
And invites me to stay for tea and a bit of cake
What would you do?
Never got along with many heads
Never got along with feds
Couldn't sleep in girls' beds, had to fled
After I fuck and after I bust
I had to duck, get the night bus home
Now I'm getting the bus home
Stumbling home
She's Wandering home
Through Holloway Road
She wants me to do her behind the...
What would you do?
Man I got too much respect for you, baby girl
We don't have to do that right now
I mean it would be fun, but when the sun comes up
Man, I think to myself, " boy what have I done?"
I'm like fuck, I got a little bit of luck
A lot of girls I lick, man they have to get
Some things don't ever change
No need to explain (No need to explain)
He's got a lot on his brain
He had the same batch since his feet were bound in kickers
Creating unknown brothers and unknown sisters
Locked in blood, gunk, fluids and mixtures
Of sweat, grease chicken, beef and love leaking stitches
Learning his citizenship he paints naked pictures
Earned to give her a tip
She waits on him but he drifted
She took his eye and now his brain's gifted
A relaxed marriage on an island in the South Pacific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Closure all over when thoughts got explicit
He turned off the paper cause he read a seedy snippet
Perverse scum, their tongues stung and twisted
They remain in fine light
But we all know they're devils and they're not with it
Uncovering these tales are quite horrific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific
Some fucking dogs to be specific