Mis-Shapes


N.B. Please do not read the lyrics whilst listening to the recordings


Mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits.
Raised on a diet of broken biscuits,
oh we don't look the same as you,
we don't do the things you do,
but we live round here too. Oh really

Mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits,
we'd like to go to town,
but we can't risk it,
oh 'cos they just want to keep us out.
You could end up with a smash in the mouth
just for standing out. Oh really.

Brothers, sisters, can't you see?
The future's owned by you and me.
There won't be fighting in the street.
They think they've got us beat,
but revenge is going to be so sweet.

We're making a move, we're making it now,
we're coming out of the side-lines.
Just put your hands up - it's a raid yeah.
We want your homes, we want your lives,
we want the things you won't allow us.
We won't use guns, we won't use bombs,
we'll use the one thing we've got more of - that's our minds.

Check your lucky numbers,
that much money could drag you under, oh.
What's the point of being rich
if you can't think what to do with it?
'Cos you're so bleeding thick.

Oh we weren't supposed to be,
we learnt too much at school
now we can't help but see that the future
that you've got mapped out
is nothing much to shout about.

We're making a move, we're making it now,
we're coming out of the side-lines.
Just put your hands up - it's a raid yeah.
We want your homes, we want your lives,
we want the things you won't allow us.
We won't use guns, we won't use bombs,
we'll use the one thing we've got more of - that's our minds.

Brothers, sisters, can't you see?
The future's owned by you and me.
There won't be fighting in the street.
They think they've got us beat,
but revenge is going to be so sweet.
We're making a move, we're making it now,
we're coming out of the side-lines.
Just put your hands up - it's a raid yeah.
We want your homes, we want your lives,
we want the things you won't allow us.
We won't use guns, we won't use bombs,
we'll use the one thing we've got more of - that's our minds.
And that's our minds.
Yeah.


Lyrics by Jarvis Cocker, music by Pulp.
From the album Different Class
Released as a single with the b-side P.T.A.

We shall fight them in "The Beeches" - and "The Stag" and "The King's Head"
if it comes to that. You know the score - ten blokes with 'taches in
short-sleeved white shirts telling you that you're the weirdo.

Fear not brothers and sisters - we shall prevail. Live on.


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