m half way home i feel foul mouthed as i stand an wait for the underground and a nervous disposition does'nt agree with this i need something to remind me that there is
Air cushioned soles, i bought them on the portobello road on saturday i stop and stare a while, a common pastime when conversation goes astray but don
dresser, he's the common aggressor he's a modern retard with a love of bomblast keeps his eye on the news never dwells on the past chorus he's a modern
The pay-me girl has had enough of the bleeps so she takes a bus into the country although she got herself rosy cheeks she didn't? leave enough mondey
't you see it in my face, my face when i feel this strange can i go through this again it's a sorry state you're gettting in the same excuse is wearing
house in emperors gate, through the door and to his rrom, then he puts the tv on, turns it off and makes some tea, says modern life it's rubbish, then
(Instrumental)
no jellybean, she's a jemima ho ho wish away. wish away i don't mind, i don't mind at all i love only you da do da da do here is here and i am here where
head I'd let the birds nest there instead Aha aha aha aha A gun in your pocket And hair in a locket Around your neck From the girl you once loved Where is
it washes you out. here is my violence and here is the excuse, i learnt it all but only second hand falling into walls well, what is it with you, you
fervoured image of another world Is nothing in particular now And imitation comes naturally But I never really stopped to think how And everyone is
I think too much on things i want too much it makes me hateful and i say stupid things only you can fill my blank heart and i'm resigned to that i wish
Wash with new soap behind the collar keeps a clean mental state don't usually bother in cold weather but still i'm getting into work late and i don't
together the family around the table to eat enough to sleep and mother's pride is you epithet, that extra slice you will soon regret so going out is your
slipping down my spine in a sense of self decline growing fat on sound it's only an early morning dream and the whole world will be alright chorus my head is
Kazoo, kazoo, you are mine i give you my heart every time turn it up, turn it off, turn it in anyway you choose, anyway you choose at all sometimes you
breathing mixing drinks at water holes get snarled up in the suburbs meandering through this and that you are suspected of vagueness when work is done
fed and watered with good company And when the day draws in You go into waltz time Wait for the cows to come home All your life
