I met you four months last Sunday, My oh my what a happy, clappy fun day. We started off as jobs in catering, Had no idea of the pain this cheap pay could bring. Now that your tickle has become a scratch, This ghost train will derail and crash. Like Blackpool's Pepsi Max, We will derail and crash, derail and crash. You moved my wardrobe out the front door, A slight indication of what I've come home, what I'm in for. You were watching Tarantino loud on widescreen, I catch your eye and the barrel points at me. Looks like your tickle has become a scratch, This ghost train will derail and crash. Like Blackpool's Pepsi Max, We will derail and crash, derail and crash. Derail and crash (x4)