text: A modern concussion
  The room is on fire
  Youre an upstanding model
  Of a modern day Cain
  With impeccable style
  So now youve done a little wrong
  And you need to be forgiven
  By the vicar and the company you keep
  And then you conjure up a fiction
  To get the pretty girl to listen
  This is, the sin, that I
  Will confess to release myself
  From consequence
  And everyone can tell
  The moral objections
  To something so profane
  Oh but the deepest of convictions
  Are the darkest positions
  Little conditions for the varicose vain
  Now youve done a little wrong
  And you swear you didnt do it
  But volition left you burdened with a curse
  And then you conjure up a fiction, yeah
  To get the pretty, pretty, pretty
  This is, the sin, that I
  Will confess to release myself
  From consequence
  And everyone can tell
  This is, the sin, that I
  Will confess to release myself
  From consequence
  This is, the sin, that I
  Will confess to release myself
  From consequence
  And everyone can tell
  And everyone can tell, yeah
  And everyone can tell
  And everyone can tell