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I ask you nicelyGet my face slapped under wrapsWhat's going on preciselyIs there something wrong perhaps?Surprise, surprise (surprise, surprise)It's more like a booby trap than a booby prizeCivil disobedience from a soldier with a dirty rifleYou're loosening all the screws that hold the hinges of my lifeFat cats and army bratsHep cats and dog tag pawing over girly magsPretty words don't mean much anymoreI don't mean to be mean much anymoreAll I see are snapshots, bigshots, tender spotsMug shots, machine slots'Till you don't know what's whatYou don't know what you gotCurious women running after curious menCuriosity didn't kill the catIt was a poisoned penBut there's not much choice (it's Hobson's choice)Between a cruel mouth and a jealous voiceLetras de cancionesGot back to LondonPicked a paper from the manNo words of consolationJust cartoons and titter tatterWell well, fancy thatMillions murdered for a kiss me quick hatNo backbone, blood and gutsBetter keep your big mouth shutPretty words don't mean much anymoreI don't mean to be mean much anymoreAll I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spotsMachine slots, mug shots'Till you don't know what's whatYou don't know what you got From Letras Mania