Below - James Ruskin

So I’m on my own

Far from my broken home

And it costs

Feels like ten below

Pack me off to school

Innocence and trust

Are all lost

Where did my childhood go?

Calling from the pay phone

Trying not to cry

Feeling I am dying

Telling you I’m fine

You tell me it’s the making of me

That’s a fucking lie

When’s the holidays?

Holidays, holidays

I’m at the bottom of my bed

Headphones on my head

John Peel’s show

Feels like ten below

Where did the sun go?

And it rains and rains

Feels like ten below

Turning on the weaker ones

When we were bored

I used to have feelings

But all I feel’s a hole

Is where the heart is

And the organ praise the lord

When’s the holidays?

Holidays, holidays

He’s at war, he’s at war

With himself at the world

He’s at war

He will strike first to anticipate

He’s at war

Don’t know how to relate

Feels like a Cold War spy

If I’m caught, take the easy way out