Tom Minor - Saturday Eats Its Young (feat. The Creatures Of Habit) Lyrics

Protection, you can't get no
Injection, against that slow
Infection, Saturday eats its young
Protection, you won't get no
Direction, can't lift that low
Connection, Saturday eats its young
Well, the world's end's declared wide open
Right here at the Cock & Bull
Toss the coin whose turn to do the one-eighty
On your marks, get set, go live, go full
All oiled up for a dance floor tan
The gang of four's got an eight-hour plan
Off you go, zone zero
Prime line of fun, there's no
Protection in old Soho
Suave diction won't save you though
From friction, Saturday eats its young
Objection against that slow
Addiction on pain death row
Is fiction, Saturday eats its young
Hail to the club-cultural revolution
And the red guards of the treadwheel blues
Somewhere out there in the five o'clock shadows
Lurks a reluctant muse
Stage left, stage right, no stage fright
All bars held obsolete overnight
There you go, zone red O
Quaalude longitude, on very close
Inspection a shop window
Reflection mirrors yo'
Complexion, Saturday walks among
Latter-day saints unsung
Churning out Sunday's dung
Saturday eats its young (this supernatural selection)
Sinking lip biting tongue (was born to show rejection)
Sunday morn church bells rung (can't take mo' perfection)
Saturday eats its young (to undergo dissection)
Too late to grow
Affection, no chance fo'
Correction, there ain't no
Protection, Saturday eats its young