She's so strange
And she wore a black moustache
And she pilfered all the petty cash
She went to Birmingham
She'll soon be in the can
She's so cruel
And she knew just what to do
And while the cats were all sniffing glue
They played their silly games
And now they'll take the blame
What she'd done
And she didn't know quite what she did
And they told her that she better had
So now she starts to cry
Without a reason why
She's so poor
And only now she's looking back
She sees her story on a paperback
What will become of her
There's not much left for her


Track written by Fran Healy