The terraces of the 70'snAre only filled with rainnThe corner shops and B-roadsnWere flattened by the mainnOur old estate’s still standingnAnd shaken by each trucknBut the house where we first made lovenWent down to let the tarmac upnnHeadstrongnnThe wallpaper curled and dirtiednThe curtain rail pulled offnThe first time you cried and scratched my backnI heard your old Dad coughnAnd after on our elbowsnWe watched the traffic crawlnUnderneath the orange lightsnAnd across your bedroom wallnnHeadstrong and cocksurennI pick my friends like scabsnAnd none of them healnAnd when my finger stabsnNone of them feelnNow the nightclubs are shut for younYou must be 24 at leastnBut I’ll still come in spiritnFirst love won't rest in peacennHeadstrong and cocksurennThose were our horizonsnOur holiday for twonJust beyond the cooling towersnOur panoramic viewnI don't remember leaving younWe both were in a statenThere always are a lot of girlsnLooking for a candidate who's...nnHeadstrong and cocksuren