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Midnight Saturday sat in the dark |
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watching the ceiling falling apart |
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the air-conditioner's been busted for weeks |
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so the smell of cooking seeps through the floor |
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I can't eat no more |
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They want me to be as light as a feather |
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so the Doctor's wired my jaws together |
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now I'm locked in the bedroom away from the food |
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so I lie on my back in the dark in the nude |
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I can't eat no more |
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I got to use a straw |
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But if the Devil dragged me down to the kitchen |
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I wouldn't put up a fight |
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I'd gladly sign away my soul |
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for a T-bone steak tonight |
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I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
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I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
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a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
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just call me Jack Kerouac |
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click-clack open up the hatchback |
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I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
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pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
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good God it's a snack attack |
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Gimme sausage, egg and beans and chips |
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milkshakes, clambakes, fondue & dips |
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and sauces, horses, 17 courses |
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of barbequed beef with asparagus tips |
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rashers of bacon, bagels and lox |
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and tandoori prawns and a box of chocs |
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spaghetti with mussels, palma hams |
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& deep frozen waffles with syrup & jams |
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My willpower's gone I'm down on my knees |
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praying to the God of cottage cheese |
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it's no good trying I'll never beat it |
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'cos if it moves I'll eat it |
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So undo my trousers, let out the slack |
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who cares it's a snack attack |
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it's a snack attack |
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I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
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I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
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a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
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just call me Jack Kerouac |
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click-clack open up the hatchback |
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I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
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pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
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good God it's a snack attack |
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it's a snack attack |
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it's a snack attack |
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it's a snack attack |
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My father was a gents outfitter |
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my mother went crazy, they had to commit her |
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they used to tell me don't be a quitter |
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but I know deep down I'm the runt of the litter |
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I can't eat no more |
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I gotta use a straw |
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How do you take an overdose |
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or even pretend to do it |
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when the last straw is the one in your mouth |
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and you can't suck sleepers through it |
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I can't eat no more |
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I gotta use a straw |
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But if the Devil took me to Mexico |
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to taste his guacamole |
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I'd gladly sign my name in blood |
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and give him the keys to my soul |
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because I can't eat no more |
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I can't eat no more |
|
I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
|
I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
|
a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
|
just call me Jack Kerouac |
|
click-clack open up the hatchback |
|
I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
|
pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
|
good God it's a snack attack |
|
it's a snack attack |
|
it's a snack attack |
|
I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
|
I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
|
a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
|
just call me Jack Kerouac |
|
click-clack open up the hatchback |
|
I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
|
pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
|
good God it's a snack attack |
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it's a snack attack |
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Midnight Sunday asleep on the floor |
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curled up in the corner can't take no more |
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Armies of food invade my sleep |
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led by lasagnas ten inches deep |
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My head is pounding my heart is beating |
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cows are mooing sheep are bleating |
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I'm being haunted by all the meat I've eaten |
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and then a burglar alarm goes off in my head |
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and I wake up screaming am I dead or alive |
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and the clock says five |
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it's only five in the morning |
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I'm covered in sweat |
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am I hungry? you bet! |
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Cold turkey's what I'm going through |
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cold turkey's what I need |
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but they hung a sign on my appetite |
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saying "Danger Do Not Feed" |
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I can't eat no more |
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I got to use a straw |
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I can't eat no more |
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I can't eat no more |
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And they've even taken away |
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the pictures of food I had on my wall |
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and my treasured collection of menus |
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they screwed up into a ball |
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in front of my face they flicked it |
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out of the window into the night |
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but they'll never unscramble the combination |
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they'll never get it right |
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now if they made a feature film |
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that featured only food |
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I'd wallow in the crowd scenes |
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while the rest of the audience booed |
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and if I got myself a video |
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I could satisfy the need |
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I could check out the action frame by frame |
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and watch the calories breed |
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but I can't eat no more |
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I got to use a straw |
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I can't eat no more |
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I can't eat no more |
|
I got to use a straw |
|
I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
|
I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
|
a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
|
just call me Jack Kerouac |
|
click-clack open up the hatchback |
|
I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
|
pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
|
good God it's a snack attack |
|
it's a snack attack |
|
I feel like Kojak sitting in a Cadillac |
|
I gotta eat, I gotta eat a Flapjack |
|
a stack, a rack, a six-pack Jack |
|
just call me Jack Kerouac |
|
click-clack open up the hatchback |
|
I could eat a Bubble car or a packamack |
|
pattacake, pattacake Big Mac |
|
good God it's a snack attack |
|
it's a snack attack |
