Chorus Called her up in the end To apologise for being so drunk and stuborn. British Intelligence there on your back And they wont catch no one so they wont catch me 3, 4's and right up your back And you just got sacked now your moneys not free Taking time has never won enough And 3 to the 4 when your really wired To much never, enough now your fired. The 501's a selfious son Travel down the inner to the suburn He's lurking, burning cigrettes on We'll be on the bar that his lover works i (guitartabs.cc)