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gold bruise - british theatre lyrics

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the boy that shot the bullet decked in yellow gold
pulled out of the river angel’s hair for rope
tried and sold on this edited tale
the sound that’s in seash-lls all of it saved in takes

broadened walls behind the spies
all the strangers battle cries are back to front wrong to right
nothing cradles you through all your crimes

you should be calling time and bursting bubbles
but after all this time you couldn’t care less

hangs on a wire inside her
lives in golden gr-ss, longer laughs
let down your hair a blessed curse
can’t be worse i’ll wear it well my golden bruise
all in stride it’s all frustrating you
all these steps are back to front wrong to right
nothing cradles you, all this time you should’ve called…

you should be calling time and bursting bubbles
if after all this time you couldn’t care less

- british theatre lyrics

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