Lyrics by Stephen Patrick Morrissey
Music by Johnny Marr
The lanes were silent
There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles
I doused our friendly venture
With a hard-faced
Three-word gesture
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
...And now I'm not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
Uh, that's what tradition means
And I doused another venture
With a gesture
That was ... absolutely vile
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
...And now I'm not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
Uh, that's what tradition means
And now eighteen months' hard labour
Seems ... fair enough
I started something
And I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure
I started something
I started something
Typical me, typical me
Typical me, typical me
Typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure