Texty písní Arctic Monkeys

Arctic Monkeys

Stickin' to the Floor

Won't somebody let me out!

Don't wanna stick around no more

I said they're looking at yer strange

I said yer stickin' to the floor

Not one of you's got an ounce of style in yer

So now one of you's gonna have to stop!

Fucking hell I'll break your nose

If they keep on pushing you around

Keep on steeping on your toes

I'll pick you up when you fall down

Not one of you's got an ounce of style in yer

Said not one of you, no

Not one of you's got an ounce of style in yer

So now one of you's gonna have to stop!

Ah ah, ah ah, oh!

Ah ah, ah ah, oh

Yea, yea, yea!

Not one of you's got an ounce of style in yer