Lyrics:

With a goldring tortoise shell glass in her hand
inky inky finger there's more feel riding here)
From the east end of London, past the M25
How many of us will get out here alive? oooh

Wipe the salt from my skin, take the pressure from my head
(I come) from the station, gonna watch you slide instead
Two eyes on the waistband, one pair of battered feet
Is this perfection? is it time for us to be? oohh

( ? ) from the corners of your door
Pulls me down and made me clean, i wanna get some more
Numbers on your collarbone, will you be my sun?
Whip it out and ( ? )