Running off over next doors garden   Before the hour is done   It's more a question of feeling   Than it is a question of fun   The confidence is the balaclava   I'm sure you'll baffle 'em good   Will the ending reek of salty cheeks   And runny makeup alone      Or will blood run down the face   Of a boy bewildered and scorned   And you'll find yourself in a skirmish   And you wish you'd never been born   And you tie yourself to the tracks   And there isn't no going back   And it's wrong wrong wrong   But we'll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble      Are you pulling her from a burning building   Or throwing her to the sharks   Can only hope that the ending is as pleasurable as the start   The confidence is the balaclava, i'm sure you baffle 'em straight   And its wrong wrong wrong, she can hardly wait      That's right, he won't let her out his sight   Now the shaggers perform   And the daggers are drawn   Who's the crooks in this crime?      That's right, he won't let her out his sight   Now the shaggers perform   And the daggers are drawn   Who's the crooks in this....   Crime!      That's right, he wont let her out his sight   That's right, he wont let her out his sight   That's right, he wont let her out his sight      You'll be able to post any day of the most   For the sights of all time      You knew that it'd be trouble right before the very first kiss   Quiet and assuming but you heard that they were the naughtiest   She pleaded with you to take it off   But you resisted and fought   Sorry sweetheart, I'd much rather keep on the balaclava.