โหลดเพลง mp3 Pity the Plight (feat. John Cooper Clarke) - Plan B

Pity the Plight - Plan B

Picture the face of your fellows

Too long a bed with no sleep

With their complex romantic attachments

All look on their sorrows and weep

They don't get a moment's reflection

There's always a crowd in their eye

Pity the plight of young fellows
Regard all their worries and cry

Their crusty young mothers were lazy perhaps
Leaving it up to the school

Where the moral perspective is hazy perhaps
And the climate oppressively cool

Give me some acre of cellos

Pitched at some distant regret

Pity the fate of young fellows
And their anxious attempts to forget

These are the tears of a thug like murky water
Crying tears as clear as mud for his father's daughter
His half-sister he felt obliged to support her
Since her mum was poor and his dad died even poorer
Separated until she was 8 years old
He knew as soon as he saw her
That he adored her so he's baying for blood with a borer
And an automatic weapon Smith Weston
That'd split a f**king hole in your chest
Then he's been looking to corner
The perpetrators responsible for a killing
Now he's finally got 'em where he wants 'em
Blood will start spilling
The atmosphere in the air
Tonight is chilling
The blanket of stars above
Their heads in the sky feels like a ceiling
Slowly crushing down on 'em as the terror starts progressing
That leaves the youngest of the two open to his suggestion
Only 13 years old pubescent adolescent
About to learn a very harsh and depressing lesson

These are the tears of a wanna-be thug
Crying tears as thick as blood
'Cause his elder set him up
To take the fall and now he's stuck
With no way of getting out
'Cause even if there was a way he'd still
Want to vent this anger out
Without a doubt these streets are rife with corruption
Young minds get corrupt even so easily f**ked
That only leads to destruction in the end
False assumptions that people have your back makes
You believe their your friends
All though some represent no one can be trusted
One double O per-cent 'cause some thugs will go to lengths
To get revenge
Even if it means manipulating youths to carry skins
And do the dirty work for them
The kind of work for men
That route the dark is past
Not impressionable young children that never had a chance
Growing up in his manor's most are doomed from the start
'Cause the minds of their peers are as ill as their hearts