The Outlaw Makeover

trip hop, alternative rock, electronic, hip hop, britpop

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"Yeah... here we go again."

There he stood, a tower of muscle, smellin' of petrol and pride
With a look that said "I’ll devour you," and nowhere left to hide.
Oil grease 'neath his fingernails, a shirt torn at the seam
I knew right then: he’s the beast I’ll wake from his rebel dream.
Dangerous? Proper. A sin in boots, untamed and wild as hell
I was sold... and already plannin' the cage for his prison cell.

Oh, I’m a sucker for an outlaw, the one who breaks the rule
With that charcoal soul and a spirit that no man could ever school.
So sexy, so mysterious, a wolf out in the night...
Give me three months, I’ll have him tucked in, prayin' by the light.

Off came the beard; turns out there was just a chin underneath it all
And that garage floor passion? Replaced by a 'scheduled' curtain call.
I swapped his bloody steaks for kale and a splash of lemon zest
Now he smells like 'Summer Breeze' and wears a quilted vest.
That skull tattoo? Lasered off, a proper painful chore
Now it’s the date of our first brunch, with a bunny, nothing more.

He didn’t ask for a ride no more, just if the Tesco deals were on
I ironed his soul so flat, every bit of grit was gone.
No mystery left in the cupboard, no fire in his gaze
He’s a neutered golden retriever now, lost in a suburban haze.
I 'healed' him, I 'shaped' him, the pride of the cul-de-sac
He looks both ways twice before he even crosses a bike track.

Then... mid-yoga in the garden, lookin' pale and slightly thin
He caught my eye, a hollow stare, no spark left within.
He whispered, "Just nippin' out for an oat latte, babe, alright?"
And pedalled off on his Dutch bike...
Out of sight.

I sigh, fix my red lipstick, and step out on the street
The world’s a bore without a bit of trouble to meet.
But wait... who’s that?
By the dodgiest pub, leanin' on a truck that’s seen a fight
A scar across his cheek, screamin' "I won't survive the night."
He spits on the pavement, ignores me... god, he’s a proper fright!
"You’ve never seen a therapist, have you, darlin'?"

"Oi... do those leathers come in a slimmer fit? Would really bring out your hips, innit."

2115/7500

"Yeah... here we go again." There he stood, a tower of muscle, smellin' of petrol and pride With a look that said "I’ll devour you," and nowhere left to hide. Oil grease 'neath his fingernails, a shirt torn at the seam I knew right then: he’s the beast I’ll wake from his rebel dream. Dangerous? Proper. A sin in boots, untamed and wild as hell I was sold... and already plannin' the cage for his prison cell. Oh, I’m a sucker for an outlaw, the one who breaks the rule With that charcoal soul and a spirit that no man could ever school. So sexy, so mysterious, a wolf out in the night... Give me three months, I’ll have him tucked in, prayin' by the light. Off came the beard; turns out there was just a chin underneath it all And that garage floor passion? Replaced by a 'scheduled' curtain call. I swapped his bloody steaks for kale and a splash of lemon zest Now he smells like 'Summer Breeze' and wears a quilted vest. That skull tattoo? Lasered off, a proper painful chore Now it’s the date of our first brunch, with a bunny, nothing more. He didn’t ask for a ride no more, just if the Tesco deals were on I ironed his soul so flat, every bit of grit was gone. No mystery left in the cupboard, no fire in his gaze He’s a neutered golden retriever now, lost in a suburban haze. I 'healed' him, I 'shaped' him, the pride of the cul-de-sac He looks both ways twice before he even crosses a bike track. Then... mid-yoga in the garden, lookin' pale and slightly thin He caught my eye, a hollow stare, no spark left within. He whispered, "Just nippin' out for an oat latte, babe, alright?" And pedalled off on his Dutch bike... Out of sight. I sigh, fix my red lipstick, and step out on the street The world’s a bore without a bit of trouble to meet. But wait... who’s that? By the dodgiest pub, leanin' on a truck that’s seen a fight A scar across his cheek, screamin' "I won't survive the night." He spits on the pavement, ignores me... god, he’s a proper fright! "You’ve never seen a therapist, have you, darlin'?" "Oi... do those leathers come in a slimmer fit? Would really bring out your hips, innit."

0/500