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James - Ten Below

So I'm on my own
Far from my broken home
And it costs
Feels like ten below
Pack me off to school
Innocence and trust are all lost
Where did my childhood go?
Calling from the pay phone
Trying not to cry
Feeling I am dying
Telling you I'm fine
You tell me it's the making of me
That's a fucking lie
When's the holidays?
Holidays. Holiday.
I'm at the bottom of my bed
Headphones on my head
John Peel show
The sky's a dull gun metal
Where did the sun go
And it rains, and rains
Turning on the weaker ones when we were bored
I used to have feelings but all I feel's a hole is where the heart is
And the organ praise the lord
Holidays. Holidays.
He's at war
With himself at the world
He will strike first to anticipate
Doesn't know how to relate
Feels like a cold war spy
If he's caught
Take the easy way out