A little after twelve   The function suite was full   Of people I had never seen before   Ripped up ticket stubs   Confettied on the floor   It dawned on me I'd seen it all before      Cool your beans my son   You look a fucking mess   No one's getting out of here tonight   Hit that button there   The one that just says wrong   We'll lose our minds to all our favourite songs      Throw forward to later   You look light on your feet   When you whirled in the room   I was nailed to my seat   I'm like a prisoner   Getting ready to talk   I feel the blood in my hands   And the threat in your walk      And suddenly   It lifts the roof off the place   It puts a vault in my step   And a grin on my face   It can't contain me   But you need an army   To get me back in my box   Or snap the branches off me      A little after four   The function suite is dead   And I am just a ripped up ticket stub   But here's a helping hand   A voice that's far too close   And I am up and on my broken limbs      Throw forward to later   You look light on your feet   When you whirled in the room   I was nailed to my seat   I'm like a prisoner   Getting ready to talk   I feel the blood in my hands   And the threat in your walk      And suddenly   It lifts the roof off the place   It puts a vault in my step   And a grin on my face   It can't contain me   But you need an army   To get me back in my box   Or snap the branches off me