Текст песни Closed Road - The Correspondents

Who told you that this was a test?
Lower your shoulders and deflate your chest
And how the hell how can you think
This a battleground not a recreational drink

So sit down
Sit down
Turn around, turn around
And sit down
Just another little ménage à trois
What a ball, what a ball, what a ball

Who′s starting to stare
I don't care
But I know
It′s the same closed road for an angry man

He knocked your chair
I don't care
But I know
It's the same closed road for an angry man

You see the looks about the men as a threat
On point, you give as good as you get
I can see your girlfriend leads you on
Telling you that man′s been looking at her too long

Sit down
Sit down
Turn around, turn around
And sit down
Just another little ménage à trois
What a ball, what a ball, what a ball

Who′s starting to stare
I don't care
But I know
It′s the same closed road for an angry man

He knocked your chair
I don't care
But I know
It′s the same closed road for an angry man

Calm down or go home
The only tail y'need to chase is your own

Calm down or go home
The only tail y′need to chase is your own

Calm down or go home
The only tail y'need to chase is your own

Calm down or go home
The only tail y'need to chase is your own

Who′s starting to stare
I don′t care
But I know
It's the same closed road for an angry man

He knocked your chair
I don′t care
But I know
It's the same closed road for an angry man

It′s so easy for your blood to boil
Those fat fingers to fan and coil
Your girl's face turns from anger to glee
At the fistful of chivalry that she can see

Sit down
Sit down
Turn around, turn around
And sit down
Just another little ménage à trois
What a ball, what a ball, what a ball