Pity The Plight Score Plan B (UK)

[Verse 1: John Cooper Clarke]
Picture the face of your fellows
Too long a bed with no sleep
With their complex romantic attachments
All look on their sorrows and weep
They don't get a moment's reflection
There's always a crowd in their eye
Pity the plight of young fellows
Regard all their worries and cry
Their crusty young mothers were lazy, perhaps
Leaving it up to the school
Where the moral perspective is hazy, perhaps
And the climate; oppressively cool
Give me one acre of cellos
Pitched at some distant regret
Pity the fate of young fellows
And their anxious attempts to forget

[Movie Interlude]

[Verse 2: Plan B]
These are the tears of a thug, like murky water
Crying tears as clear as mud for his father's daughter
His half sister, he felt obliged to support her
Since her mum was poor and her dad died even poorer
Separated until she was eight years old
He knew as soon as he saw her that he adored her
So now he's paying for blood with a bora
And an automatic weapon: Smith And Wesson
That'd split a fucking hole in your chest length
He's been looking to corner the perpetrators responsible for a killing
Now that he's finally got them where he wants them
Blood will start spilling
The atmosphere in the air tonight is chilling
The blanket of stars above their heads in the sky feels like a ceiling
Slowly crushing down on them as the terror starts progressing
That leaves the youngest of the two open to his suggestion
Only thirteen years old, pubescent adolescent
About to learn a very harsh and depressing lesson