الأغاني:
Arctic Monkeys

I'm going back to 505 If it's a 7-hour flight or a 45-minute drive In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side With your hands between your thighs

Running off over next door's garden Before the hour is done It's more a question of feeling Than it is a question of fun The confidence is the balaclava

Brian, top marks for not tryin' So kind of you to bless us With your effortlessness We're grateful and so strangely comforted And I wonder, are you puttin

Despair to the point where they provoke The punchline before they have told the joke The sheer desperation to be seen Staring at the television screen

Try and think of something colorful for this season Pull the wool over the gullible for no reason You are all I have these days, shake it up and run away

The painted faces congregate In the mating season The second hopes, they go alone In no rush to reason And there's a fountain And a scimitar Shaped yellow

Made me kiss you with a whisper And violently you swung through an unfamiliar tongue Couldn't listen to tradition Grab me by the wrist to silently insist

Both sides In softly came the growl from both sides And if his whisper splits the mist Just think of what he's capable of with his kiss Nice try You

You used to get it in your fishnets so now you only get it in your night dress Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness Landed in a very common crisis