[Verse 1] Fake IDs and fizzy drinks, and you’re stood there on the blink, Trying hard to look like you're nineteen, but you know you’re on the brink. Got your brand new jacket buttoned up, waiting for the pint in a plastic cup, Said your name was Sharon but it rhymes with panic, mate, Gotta make your move before it's too late. [Bulid-up] [Pre-Chorus] The bouncer gave a nod, he let you in, You looked at me with that dirty grin. It's just another Friday night, isn't it? But I think you're gonna make the ceiling split. [Chorus A] Oh, you look like trouble, but the good kind! Can you hear the beat? We're losing our minds! Got the sticky floor and the stale beer smell, And we ain't ever gonna tell! [Chorus B] Yeah, turn the bass drum up, let the guitar shred! Forget everything the Sunday papers said! You look like trouble, and I don't care who knows, We are the night, yeah, everybody goes! [Verse 2] Heard you told your mate you had a job, Selling tickets to some garage sob-story club. Your eyeliner’s running, but you couldn't care less, Another fiver down the drain, another night of stress. [Pre-Chorus] The bouncer gave a nod, he let you in, You looked at me with that dirty grin. It's just another Friday night, isn't it? But I think you're gonna make the ceiling split. [Chorus A] Oh, you look like trouble, but the good kind! Can you hear the beat? We're losing our minds! Got the sticky floor and the stale beer smell, And we ain't ever gonna tell! [Chorus B] Yeah, turn the bass drum up, let the guitar shred! Forget everything the Sunday papers said! You look like trouble, and I don't care who knows, We are the night, yeah, everybody goes! [Guitar Solo / Middle 8] Oi! Where’s the bouncer?! [Outro] Last call's coming early, mate. But you're still stood there, by the gate. The fake ID won't take you home, You're stuck here on your own. ...We ain't ever gonna tell... (Hmm) Ye!
