A pastel coloured tower block,
The nasty edge of town,
Interrupts the sunrise
With a fifteen-storey frown.
The paintjobs look like piss stains.
The grass is pasty brown.
The council dropped a bollock
But they'll never pull it down.
Franco is a failure
By the age of twenty-three.
He used to be a rock-star
Now he works in HMV.
To Kimberley, he's a pity shag,
With little else to choose.
A recovering alcoholic,
She works in Bargain Booze.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
They Sellotape a BROKEN sign
To the elevator door.
Step inside and fornicate
As it moves between the floors.
For Franco, it's a mission:
Sex is now a sport.
For Kimberley, it's all about the risk
Of being caught.
They silently pretend
That they get any pleasure from it.
And then they roll a spliff
To make the other person vomit.
Netflix as a sedative
Til eyelids win the duel.
A tumbleweed existence
As boring as it's cruel.
No-one said their twenties
Would be destitute and bleak.
Formulating saving plans
To see em through the week.
With the papers in the Rizla pack
That say you're nearly done,
Kimberley made a collage that said:
I haven't yet begun.
The strip-lights are flickering.
The toddlers wear designers.
Graffiti on the wall that says:
VICTORY TO THE MINERS.
Destruction to procrastinate:
Convenience is queen.
Lay on clouds instead of concrete.
Meet me: fifteen.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
Skint & Demoralised - The Fifteenth Floor Lyrics
Skint & Demoralised - The Fifteenth Floor Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
A pastel coloured tower block,
The nasty edge of town,
Interrupts the sunrise
With a fifteen-storey frown.
The paintjobs look like piss stains.
The grass is pasty brown.
The council dropped a bollock
But they'll never pull it down.
Franco is a failure
By the age of twenty-three.
He used to be a rock-star
Now he works in HMV.
To Kimberley, he's a pity shag,
With little else to choose.
A recovering alcoholic,
She works in Bargain Booze.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
They Sellotape a BROKEN sign
To the elevator door.
Step inside and fornicate
As it moves between the floors.
For Franco, it's a mission:
Sex is now a sport.
For Kimberley, it's all about the risk
Of being caught.
They silently pretend
That they get any pleasure from it.
And then they roll a spliff
To make the other person vomit.
Netflix as a sedative
Til eyelids win the duel.
A tumbleweed existence
As boring as it's cruel.
No-one said their twenties
Would be destitute and bleak.
Formulating saving plans
To see em through the week.
With the papers in the Rizla pack
That say you're nearly done,
Kimberley made a collage that said:
I haven't yet begun.
The strip-lights are flickering.
The toddlers wear designers.
Graffiti on the wall that says:
VICTORY TO THE MINERS.
Destruction to procrastinate:
Convenience is queen.
Lay on clouds instead of concrete.
Meet me: fifteen.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
The nasty edge of town,
Interrupts the sunrise
With a fifteen-storey frown.
The paintjobs look like piss stains.
The grass is pasty brown.
The council dropped a bollock
But they'll never pull it down.
Franco is a failure
By the age of twenty-three.
He used to be a rock-star
Now he works in HMV.
To Kimberley, he's a pity shag,
With little else to choose.
A recovering alcoholic,
She works in Bargain Booze.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
They Sellotape a BROKEN sign
To the elevator door.
Step inside and fornicate
As it moves between the floors.
For Franco, it's a mission:
Sex is now a sport.
For Kimberley, it's all about the risk
Of being caught.
They silently pretend
That they get any pleasure from it.
And then they roll a spliff
To make the other person vomit.
Netflix as a sedative
Til eyelids win the duel.
A tumbleweed existence
As boring as it's cruel.
No-one said their twenties
Would be destitute and bleak.
Formulating saving plans
To see em through the week.
With the papers in the Rizla pack
That say you're nearly done,
Kimberley made a collage that said:
I haven't yet begun.
The strip-lights are flickering.
The toddlers wear designers.
Graffiti on the wall that says:
VICTORY TO THE MINERS.
Destruction to procrastinate:
Convenience is queen.
Lay on clouds instead of concrete.
Meet me: fifteen.
There's nothing left to do but fall, now.
Our backs are up against the wall, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
There's really nothing left to see, now.
So rest your head and just be free, now.
Meet me on the fifteenth floor.
Writer: David Gledhill, Matthew Abbott
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management