Paul Weller

Sugartown has turned so sour
Its people angry in their sleep
There's more small-town paranoia
Sweeping down its evil sheets
You better give me the chance
I'll cut you down with a glance
Yeh, with my small axe - so help me
And tho' I'm only one
And tho' weak I'm strong
And if it comes to the crunch
Then I'm the woodcutter's son
And I'm cutting down the wood for the good of everyone!
You can tell it's witching hour
You can feel the spirits rise
When the room goes very quiet
And there's hatred in your eyes
You better give me the chance
I'll cut you down with a glance
Yeh, with my small axe - so help me
And tho' I'm only one
And tho' weak I'm strong
And if it comes to the crunch
Then I'm the woodcutter's son
And I'm cutting down the wood for the good of everyone!
There's a silence when I enter
And a murmur when I leave
I can see their jealous faces
I can feel the ice they breathe
You better give me the chance
I'll cut you down with a glance
Yeh, with my small axe - so help me
And tho' I'm only one
And tho' weak I'm strong
And if it comes to the crunch
Then I'm the woodcutter's son