text: Running off over next doors garden before the hour is done
  Its more a question of feeling than it is a question of fun
  The confidence is the balaclava, Im sure youll 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 youll find yourself in a skirmish where you wish youd never been born?
  You tie yourself to the tracks and there isnt no going back
  And its wrong, wrong, wrong, but well 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, Im sure youll baffle em straight
  And its wrong, wrong, wrong, but she can hardly wait
  Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
  Now the shaggers perform and the daggers are drawn
  Whos the crooks in this crime?
  Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
  Now the shaggers perform and the daggers are drawn
  Whos the crooks in this crime?
  Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
  Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
  Thats right, he wont let her out his sight
  Well, youll be able to boast
  Of the day of the most flawless heist of all time
  You knew that itd be trouble right before the very first kiss
  Quiet and unassuming but you heard that they were the naughtiest
  She pleaded with you to take it off but you resisted and fought
  But sorry, sweetheart, Id much rather keep on the balaclava